Postcards From The Edge
by Joanna Grant
Summary: Logan is in Canada, but his mind keeps drifting back to Westchester and a certain tempting brunette.
1. The Keeper Of The Tag

Title: Postcards From The Edge

Author: Karen

Disclaimer: If I owned the characters, X2 would be rated NC-17 because Logan and Marie would spend the entire movie shagging. Plot? Who needs a plot?

Pairing: HornyFeralLogan and TeasingVixenMarie

Feedback: Would be appreciated.

Original publication date: June 21, 2002

Summary: Logan is in Canada, but his mind keeps drifting back to Westchester and a certain tempting brunette.

Notes: This fic was inspired by the spoiler for X-Men 2 that Mystique morphs into the different women in Logan's life – I'm assuming in an attempt to get him into bed. This has nothing to do with the book "Postcards From The Edge" by Carrie Fisher or the Meryl Streep movie based on that book – I just liked the title, so I stole…I meant, I borrowed it.

Thanks to my previewers extraordinaire: Terri, Taryn, Leah and Heather. The MasterCard 'moment' is courtesy of Heather.

The Gee-I'm-Flattered mention goes to Heather – whose own fic "No More Words" was inspired by this story.

A big thanks to Nadine for the gorgeous photo creation for this story. Her choice of a Logan sans muttonchops necessitated that I come up with a plausible reason for him shaving them off – I hope you like what I came up with.

Chapter One: The Keeper of the Tag

Logan hadn't been gone even one whole week before he began missing her. He'd never missed anyone before in his whole miserable existence – probably because he'd never encountered anyone worth missing before now. He knew he was in big trouble when his dreams about her had started to edge dangerously towards the erotic. He'd helped himself to one of the photos of her that had been taken right after they'd arrived at the mansion and two weeks into his fact-finding trip he masturbated while looking at it and moaned her name as he climaxed.

_Marie._

The abandoned military compound at Alkali Lake had yielded absolutely no information, having long been wiped clean of any evidence of whatever activities had taken place there. Logan decided to go back to Westchester for two reasons – it was the only place in fifteen years he'd felt even the slightest inclination to return to and most importantly, _she_ was there – the one who haunted his dreams. He was inching his way back across Canada following the fight circuit, and while the claw-popping incident in Laughlin City had taken on an 'urban legend' aspect, he wasn't taking any chances and had shaved off his too easily recognizable muttonchops, cut his hair and forsaken using the designation 'Wolverine'. It was now three months later and he'd made his way as far as the not even-big-enough-to-be-on-the-map town of Moose Bluff, in the province of Manitoba. He planned to be there for the next couple of weeks or so as the money from the cage fights at the local redneck bar was better than some of the other dives he'd fought in along the way. He didn't want to return to Westchester and have to rely solely on Charles' charity, so having a decent stash of his own was important to him.

Logan phoned the mansion for his weekly check-in with Marie, but wasn't able to speak to her this time because she'd gone to the mall with her friends. He asked Charles some general questions about her welfare and then casually inquired if she was dating. He tried to sound nonchalant, but blew it when he let out an audible sigh of relief when told that she wasn't currently involved with anyone. He informed Charles that it would probably be a couple more months before he'd be back as the fight circuit was fairly lucrative and he had his eye on a plot of land in Alberta that he'd hoped to buy. Charles then asked him for the address of the over-sized roach motel Logan was currently calling home because he'd obtained some government files that could prove informative and wanted to forward them on to him. The next day a package arrived airborne express – it was a laptop computer containing the procured files. In Charles' enclosed note, he'd even thoughtfully included Marie's email address.

Logan wasted no time getting on-line, establishing an e-mail account and before even opening the files, contacting Marie.

**From: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: Just checking in**

_Hey, Kid:_

_Chuck sent me a laptop. I'm in Moose Bluff or as the locals refer to it, Moose Butt. The phone number here at the 'Buckingham Palace Motel' is 705-555-2950. Yeah, this dump really is called Buckingham Palace – talk about delusions of grandeur! I'm in the 'King George' suite – also known as over-sized closet number five._

_Call me, okay? I miss the way you drawl my name._

_Logan_

The information in the files turned out to be just another military installation that Logan already knew about and had previously checked out, but he e-mailed Charles to thank him anyway.

A few hours later the phone on the nightstand rang.

"Hello," Logan answered, already guessing who was on the other end.

"Logan," a honeyed drawl came through so softly that anyone with normal hearing would've had to strain to hear it.

Logan actually felt his breath hitch at the mere sound of her voice.

"Marie," he practically moaned back.

"So, ya like the way I say your name?" Marie asked, the amusement in her voice plainly evident.

"Yeah," he admitted, "Most people say it like they're pissed off at me, but you always sound like…"

Logan stopped himself, because he couldn't tell her that her voice sounded like he should be paying $3.95 a minute for the privilege of listening to it.

"Like what?" she pressed.

He searched for something safe to say – something not insulting, which resulted in a significant pause.

"Well, if you don't wanna talk…" Marie teased as if she was preparing to hang up on him.

"You sound like one of those phone sex girls," Logan blurted out and then gave himself a mental ass-kicking for being so stupid.

"Wow, is this gonna be an obscene phone call?" she asked with a coquettish inflection he'd forgotten she was capable of producing.

"Yeah, what are you wearing?" The words tumbled out before he had a chance to censor himself.

"Nothing but a black thong and your dogtag," Marie replied willingly playing along, "So, what are you wearing?" she retaliated coyly.

_Holy fuck._ Logan was sorely tempted to say 'Thanks to that visual, nothing but a hard-on and a smile.' but he'd sufficiently regained enough of his composure to realize they were heading into dangerous territory, so instead he safely answered, "Jeans."

"Just jeans?"

Marie still wanted to play. Apparently she'd forgotten the childhood lesson that it was dangerous to taunt wild animals.

"How old are you?" Logan asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Eighteen next week, why?" she asked mischievously, as if reading his mind.

"I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss your birthday," he bluffed – badly, "What do you want?"

What Logan didn't know was that Marie wanted to tell him that all she really desired for her birthday was for him to come home and find a creative way around her mutation. Instead she safely answered, "How about one of those cheesy souvenir t-shirts that say something like 'My hero went to Canada and all I got was this lousy t-shirt'."

Logan let out a low chuckle and then an image of Marie in just such a t-shirt flickered across his lust-fogged brain. Just the t-shirt – no bra and especially no panties. He swallowed hard and willed his body to behave itself.

"Okay, kid, I'll see what I can rustle up."

"Logan." This time his name came out in a distinctively different lilt – tighter, and definitely not honeyed. "I outgrew being called 'kid' when my boobs grew in."

At that statement Logan was transported back to the day he'd left and the memory of her standing there in the foyer of the mansion giving him his first real good look at some serious Marie-cleavage. He remembered practically hearing the rip as he tore his eyes away – knowing he had to get out of there quickly before he did something completely embarrassing like throwing her down on the highly polished marble floor and ravishing her right on the spot.

He couldn't tell her that he called her 'kid' as a defense mechanism, to stop himself from thinking about her as a potential bedmate. He knew the age of consent in New York was seventeen, but he'd made a private vow to keep his hands off of her until she was eighteen, which apparently was coming up a lot quicker than he was prepared for.

"I know you're not a kid, Marie," he practically whispered, afraid of what verbalizing it would do for his rationalization.

"Good," she replied with just a slight hint of mischievousness.

Logan got the distinct impression that Marie knew exactly what she was doing to him. He rapidly steered the conversation to safer topics and even listened with feigned interest when she detailed her latest mall excursion with Jubilee and Kitty. The casual mention of the shower gel she'd purchased conjured up risqué images of her in the shower, naked except for the fragrant bubbles, and he was so distracted that he almost missed her telling him that she'd been having therapy sessions with the Professor in an effort to control her gift and was making excellent progress – even better than anticipated.

The contemplation of a Marie who was both eighteen and touchable opened up a whole new world of intriguing possibilities. Not that he couldn't be creative if necessary; he just had this insatiable need to have her wrapped around him without any barriers – even if it meant waiting – apparently not as long as he'd originally figured. At that revelation he decided to end the conversation for now because he couldn't bring himself to jerk off while she was still innocently chattering about school. He needed to fantasize about her talking dirty to him, not telling him about Scott's latest lame ass English assignment. And besides, the mere mention of that particular stick-up-the-ass mutant was a guaranteed mood killer.

He told her to stay in touch via e-mail, promised to call again and bid her goodnight.

He'd barely hung up the receiver when he reached down, freed himself from the confines of the tight denim and began stroking himself – images of a soulful-eyed brunette guiding him to completion.

The following night Logan returned to his motel room several thousand dollars richer and for once – alone. Ever since his conversation with Marie the previous night he couldn't stop thinking about what her casual revelations had meant to him. He knew he was in deep when he realized that no bimbo could ever substitute for just a fantasy about her. That he'd prefer to imagine Marie writhing beneath him than have a flesh and blood someone else actually there. He flipped open the laptop and found that he had a message waiting for him.

**To: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**From: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: Mall madness**

_Hi Logan,_

_Got dragged to the mall again today – Jubes and Kitty insisted I buy some clothes that would give me some *incentive* to learn control – as if not putting people in a coma wasn't incentive enough *g*_

_I've attached a pic of me in one of the outfits. I know, I know, Cindy Crawford doesn't have anything to worry about._

_Hope you're staying out of trouble._

_Love,_

_Marie_

Logan opened the attachment with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. As the picture came up on the small screen he caught his breath – there she was in a come-hither pose, her chestnut and platinum hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, wearing the shortest black leather skirt Logan had ever seen, a skintight black top with a scooped neckline that showed off a generous amount of cleavage and to complete the look a pair of what was commonly referred to as 'fuck me' boots. Logan's jeans immediately tightened and a noise vibrated the room, which he realized was him - growling. As he undid his jeans to relieve some of the pressure he wondered if she was wearing panties under the miniscule skirt and almost came right then and there.

When the phone rang, he hazily picked it up and in a thick voice managed to eek out a greeting.

"Hello."

"Hey, sugar." The honeyed drawl replied and Logan immediately ejaculated.

Unable to speak, Logan covered the mouthpiece so that Marie couldn't hear his labored breathing as he willed himself to calm down.

"I was just checking to see if you got my e-mail," she continued, unaware of the battle Logan was currently waging with his body.

_Oh boy, did I. _"Uh, yeah, I…'er…was just gonna open it," Logan lied, his voice still shaky despite his best efforts.

"Logan, are you okay? You sound funny," she queried innocently.

"Jogging," he replied, cringing at the weak lie and contemplating jogging to the ice machine for a bucket full of ice to dump on his crotch.

"Jogging? Since when do you jog?" she asked, apparently not buying it – not that he'd expected her to.

"Not actually jogging – I meant I ran out of the bathroom when I heard the phone ring," Logan said as he tried valiantly to save grace, "I was just getting in the shower when you called."

"I just got out of the tub after a nice long soak, so I guess we're both naked," Marie teased.

And with that Logan immediately got hard again.

"Thanks for the visual," he managed to choke out.

"And thank you," she replied coquettishly.

"So, are we heading into a 'letter to Penthouse' territory?"

"I dunno," she giggled, "I've never had phone sex."

"Ah yes, my sweet innocent Marie," he said with a smile, thinking of the pleasure he'd derive in changing that particular status.

"I just said I've never had phone sex. I didn't say I was still a virgin."

Logan felt like a hot knife had just been sharply inserted into his heart.

"You're … not," he stammered.

He plainly remembered her telling him that she'd miraculously been able to successfully ward off any attempts to relieve her of her virginity whilst on the road all those months – which meant …

"Oh no, Scott took care of that little problem – right there on the floor of the Danger Room," she informed him and then let out a small sigh.

"WHAT! You tell that prick to make out his will, 'cause he's fucking dead about thirty seconds after I get home," Logan seethed as he released the claws and sunk them into the already battered headboard.

"Logan, calm down, I'm just kidding," she replied.

"You're not just saying that to protect your lover, are you?" he asked as he retracted the claws.

Marie let out a low laugh, "Please. Screwing Scott would be practically incestuous."

Logan took a deep breath, "You really had me going there for a minute. I'm gonna have to take you over my knee and spank you when I get home."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise," he replied with a wicked grin.

First he'd promised to protect her and now he was promising to spank her. Logan thought about bending Marie over his lap, raising the little leather skirt, discovering she hadn't bothered with panties and … _Fuck!_

He'd been in strip clubs across Canada, had seen countless women naked and yet all it took was the thought of one slip of a girl, who he'd never actually seen naked except in his fantasies, to make him harder than he'd ever been in his life.

"But you will kiss it better, right?" Marie asked in deceptively innocent voice.

"Shit, Marie."

"I thought you wanted to play?"

"Yeah. But are you really ready to play?"

"I'm wet and it's not from the tub," she informed him, apparently more ready to play than Logan had anticipated.

Logan let out a low groan and realized that he wasn't going to last long as his control was already hanging by a precarious thread.

"Do you have a hard-on?" she asked calmly.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Is it because of me?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you need to describe it to me," she said boldly.

"Excuse me?"

"A visual, Logan – gimme a description of your 'throbbing manhood'."

_One phone call - seven bucks. Resulting damage to headboard - fifty bucks. Hearing your innocent dream girl ask about the state of your erection - priceless._

"Why do I have to go first?"

"Oh fine, you big baby," Marie mocked, "My areolas are about the size of a quarter, pinkish-brown in color and my nipples are little pebbles that are sensitive to cold and scratchy fabrics. Now your turn."

Logan was temporarily struck dumb as he fumbled to find his voice again.

"Thick, eight inches and 'cut'," he blurted before he chickened out.

Just then there was a loud banging on Marie's door.

"Damnit, I almost forgot. I'm supposed to go to the movies with Jubes and Kitty – I gotta go," she told him.

"Call me when you get home, I don't care how late it is," Logan started to say, but she'd already hung up.

He reached out to touch her photograph on the computer screen.

Marie had just stepped into her panties when Jubes and Kitty, tired of waiting in the hall, entered her room.

"What's taking so long, Rogue? Kitty asked as they barged in, "We won't have time to go to the snack bar before the movie starts if we don't leave in the next few minutes."

Marie let out a yelp and scrambled to cover herself.

"What's with the modesty, babe?" Jubilee asked as she popped a bubble with her ever-present gum.

"Hello! Lethal skin – remember?" Marie pointed out.

"That would only be a problem if one of us was gonna jump you," Kitty said as she tossed Marie an exaggerated wink.

"Speak for yourself, she's not my type," Jubilee chuckled.

Marie suddenly felt foolish and proceeded to get dressed at a normal pace. Finally dressed, she grabbed her purse and ushered them out of her room. On the ride to the theater Jubilee and Kitty were discussing their favorite subjects – their boyfriends and Marie debated whether or not to tell them about her recent conversations with Logan. They'd only had a couple of teasing phone calls – not exactly a relationship, and Jubes and Kitty would probably just rib her about it – telling her not to get her hopes up that Logan would ever see her as anything more than the stray kid he'd first met. Even if she did know the 'statistics' of his cock. She couldn't wait to get back home, get into bed and fantasize about a naked and aroused Logan stalking towards her – ready to possess her. She let out a soft moan as her panties dampened and then flushed pink when she realized that Kitty was looking at her funny.

"Thinking about an extra large tub of buttered popcorn," she covered.

"Yeah, thinking about popcorn always makes me sound like I'm about to have an orgasm, too," Jubilee announced.

Marie chewed on her bottom lip and stared down at the floor mat. No, she was definitely not going to mention anything about Logan just yet.

She never did call Logan back that night, but the next morning he awoke to an e-mail message that she'd sent after getting back from the movie.

**From: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: Movie**

_Hey Logan,_

_Sorry I had to cut short our little game earlier, but I didn't want Jubes and Kitty walking in while we were – well, you know. The movie we saw was practically a porno – the wardrobe budget couldn't have put much of a dent in the overall budget because most of the time the actors were naked. *g* And I've seen better acting in kindergarten plays – although I don't think acting talent was a priority when they were casting! The title "Sexually Bewitched" should've been a clue. I think Jubes thought it was one of those TV shows from the 60's or 70's that was turned into a movie – like the Brady Bunch or something. Duh._

_Well, at least Jubes and Kitty have boyfriends to come home to while I sit here horny, frustrated and seriously contemplating using my hand-held shower massager in a way I'm sure the manufacturer didn't intend it to be used. Oops, I suppose that should fall under the category of 'too much information', but as we've already exchanged descriptions of our *parts* I guess it's probably okay to divulge that._

_Well, off to take a shower – I'll be thinking of you. *wink wink*_

_Love,_

_Marie_

And Logan thought of her as he showered. Or more precisely thought about having her pressed up against the tile, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust up into her as she moaned and he growled in satisfaction.

Later, he found himself restlessly pacing the room, watching the clock, waiting until he knew she'd be done with classes for the day and hopefully back in her room and checking her e-mail. He'd sent her a brief, but to the point reply.

**From: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: Call me**

_Marie,_

_Call me. I wanna pick up from where we were rudely interrupted._

_Logan_

Marie didn't call until just before Logan was ready to head out to the "Snake Pit Bar" for the evening's cage fights. She told him that she'd been doing some training with Scott, news that didn't sit well with him at all. He didn't like the idea of Scott rolling around on the gym floor with her. Marie picked up on his irritation and was amused, so she decided to taunt him a little.

"It's not like he copped a feel or anything," she paused before teasingly adding, "Well, maybe one or two."

If anyone was gonna be sneaking touches it would be him, not that dick. Logan growled instinctively and then threatened to mess up Scott's pretty boy looks if he didn't learn to keep his wandering hands to himself.

"Logan, I told you I'm frustrated and Scott and Jean have been having problems lately and I've been thinking that Scott's not really my brother, so…" she trailed off purposely.

Looking at the clock next to the bed, Logan realized that if he wanted to be on tonight's fight roster that he'd have to leave immediately.

"I gotta go, Marie, but I'll call you when I get back," Logan said, "Oh, and considered yourself spanked, you naughty girl." And with that he hung up.

Logan knew that Marie was only joking about Scott, but he still imagined every one of his opponents as the X-Men leader and inflicted far more damage than usual on his poor victims. When he finally sauntered over to the bar at the end of the evening, his temper was only just beginning to ebb. He'd just taken his first slug of Molson's when a lilting voice caught his attention.

"I've been watching you all night from across the room."

"Yeah, why don't you go back there and keep watching," Logan answered without bothering to look up from his beer.

Just then Logan caught a familiar scent and jerked his head in the direction of the voice. The woman was a gorgeous shapely blonde wearing a red dress that clung so tightly to her that it left no doubt she'd forgone underwear. She may have looked different from their last encounter, but Logan recognized her nonetheless.

"Mystique," he hissed.


	2. Things Heat Up

Chapter Two: Things Heat Up

"Hello, stud," Mystique answered in her best husky voice.

Logan abandoned the rest of his beer, stood up and stalked out of the bar. He'd sniffed the air and couldn't detect any sign of Sabretooth or even Toad, so apparently Mystique was alone. He wasn't surprised when she followed him out to the parking lot.

"Getting impaled at the Statue of Liberty didn't give you the hint we ain't friends?" he asked as he climbed onto his bike.

"I was hoping you'd impale me with a more interesting body part," she replied bluntly.

Logan let out a 'humpf', "Guess subtlety ain't your middle name."

"You don't exactly strike me as the type that bothers with the whole 'wining and dining' routine, so cut the crap."

"What do you want, Mystique?"

"I thought I made that obvious, but if you need it spelled out … I want to fuck your brains out. Is that clear enough for you?"

"What the hell makes you think I'd even consider slumming with you?"

"Because I can be anyone you want," Mystique answered as she morphed into Jean.

Mystique was puzzled by Logan's complete lack of interest at the sight of the redhead, as she'd been sure the good doctor was his type. She decided to try a different approach and changed into the form of the other woman from that night at the Statue - Storm.

Again, no indication of even the slightest interest.

Surely he can't want …

Mystique transformed into the one she knew as Rogue and noted with great interest the immediate response from the Wolverine. His eyes sparkled and one corner of his mouth turned up in the faintest of smiles. She'd stumbled onto his preference and the information fascinated and delighted her.

"Get on," Logan gestured with a nod of his head.

She slid onto the bike behind Logan and wrapped her arms around his waist. One hand began caressing his stomach, while the other hand floated over the front of his jeans and discovered his very obvious erection. If she had to be the little brunette in order to experience this fine specimen of a man – that worked for her, she had no pride. Years of fulfilling fantasies for both men and women had taken care of that particular issue.

They arrived at Logan's motel and he hauled Mystique off the bike and practically dragged her into his room. He was clearly horny as hell and she looked forward to a nice hard ride. Barely a heartbeat after the door closed she dropped to her knees and reached for the zipper on his faded jeans.

"You wanna do me a favor and spit out your gum first," Logan requested.

"I've always been a 'swallower'," Mystique replied as she swallowed the gum.

No sooner had he been released from the confines of the tight denim than she had him in her mouth sucking greedily. Logan tangled his fingers in the dark silky hair and thrust into the wet heat of her mouth. He looked down and it was like a fantasy come to life. Except it wasn't, and even though she looked like Marie, the scent he managed to catch through the lust-induced fog reminded him that she was just a pale imitation. He didn't want substitute Marie, he wanted the real thing – even if it meant waiting, but most of all for their first time together he wanted Marie under him as he made love to her, not on her knees in front of him like some bar whore. He pressed his fingers firmly into the side of Mystique's head and gave her a firm push off of him.

"Get out," he snarled as he zipped up his jeans.

"You've got to be kidding me?"

"Get out. You can leave the easy way through the open door or the hard way through the closed window, don't matter to me."

"Come on, Wolvie, I know you want me," Mystique said as she hiked the dress up far enough to reveal that, like he'd guessed, she wasn't wearing any panties.

Logan's jaw twitched as he tried to focus on the fact that this wasn't really Marie offering herself to him. He was so tempted to throw rationality out of the window instead of the shapeshifter. The Wolverine didn't want to resist the temptation and Logan found that he was bargaining with himself. _It'd only be once, and Marie would never know – where's the harm?_ The Wolverine rationalized. _I'd know._ Logan answered. The internal battle raged on for several moments before the victor was declared and Logan opened the door and roughly shoved Mystique out.

Logan sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his hair. He hadn't come when he'd shoved Mystique off of him and his hard-on was beginning to hurt. He'd made the right decision he reasoned with himself. He couldn't be with Marie if he'd already _been_ with her. He reached for the phone and decided to place a call despite the late hour.

A sleepy voice answered after just a couple of rings.

"Sorry to wake you. I just needed to hear your voice," Logan said apologetically.

"Logan?"

"Yeah, baby, it's me," he replied before realizing the endearment had slipped out.

_Baby. Did he just call me baby? I sure like that better than 'kid'._

"Are you okay?" Marie asked, tamping down the temptation to ask him about the 'baby' comment.

"I am now," Logan told her – even though hearing her voice was actually making him harder, if that was possible.

"I wish you were here."

"So do I. You have no idea how much."

"Tell me how much," she requested.

"I wanna be with you so bad, Marie. I ache for you," he confessed.

"Sounds like you need a little 'relief'."

Marie caught on fast.

"What are you wearing?" he asked.

"I'm in bed, so nothing," she informed him.

Logan knew that Marie had been given his room, which meant she was in his bed – naked. He let out a small growl at the thought of her scent marking his sheets and the small trace of blood still left in his brain immediately headed south to join the rest of his blood supply.

"Tell me a bedtime story," Logan managed to get out.

Marie obliged.

"You've just returned from a mission and you strip off your uniform to reveal how aroused you are. I lift the sheet and pat the space next to me and you stalk across the room, a wicked grin of anticipation on your face. You climb into the bed and I know you want to roll me under you and take me fast, but I have other plans. I push you onto your back and straddle you. My mouth seeks yours and you part your lips so I can sink my tongue into your mouth. My tongue strokes yours as we both moan. When we finally surface for air, I dust your face with feathery kisses as my fingers comb through your hair and your hands cup my breasts – your thumbs stroking my nipples to hardness. I trail a path of heated kisses down your throat and onto your collarbone, then further down onto the pectoral muscles of your gorgeous chest as your hands explore my body. I lavish open-mouthed kisses all over your chest before following the path of hair down onto your tummy to where it whirls in a circle around your navel. I continue moving down the 'happy trail' as you groan in contemplation of where I'm heading. But I go right past your cock and onto the top of your inner right thigh, which I pepper with delicate kisses. I then shift over to your other thigh, brushing my hair over your cock in the process."

By this time Logan had unzipped his jeans and was stroking himself, he was noticeably panting on his end of the phone as he pleaded, "Marie, please."

"I wrap my hand around the base of your cock and lick the dribble of pre-cum on the head. I swirl my tongue around the head and then give it a light suck before trailing my mouth down the underside all the way to the base and then back up again."

"In your mouth, Marie. Put it in your mouth," Logan whispered hoarsely.

"I take you into my mouth, inch by beautiful inch – alternating between licking and sucking. I feel you quivering and I know you're close to coming."

"So close, baby so close," Logan moaned as he imagined the hand on his cock was her hot, wet mouth.

"I give your balls a light squeeze and you erupt down my throat," she said as Logan let out a low guttural growl and spilled himself into his hand.

Regaining his composure, he said, "Oh God, thank you, baby. I needed that so badly."

"You're welcome – anytime. I'm going back to sleep now. Goodnight, sugar," Marie replied and then she was gone.

Logan headed for the shower to clean himself up, while Marie went back to sleep lulled by wonderful visions of Logan tenderly making love to her.

Their phone calls became a nightly ritual – an erotic variation on the bedtime story scenario.

"So what are you wearing?" Logan always asked to start things off.

"One of your flannel shirts that I stole out of the hamper," Marie replied this time

Usually she told him she was naked, so this was different.

"Why would you wanna do that?" he asked, puzzled why she'd chose to wear one of his unwashed shirts.

"Because it smells like you and helps me fantasize when I masturbate," she confessed rather boldly.

Logan just about dropped the phone.

He couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around the admission that she liked to be enveloped in his scent and thought about him as she pleasured herself.

"Logan?"

"I'm here," he finally responded.

"Who do you think about when you touch yourself?" she asked brazenly.

"Scott," Logan answered.

"Hey, whoever floats your boat," Marie replied with a giggle.

"Damnit, Marie, you know who I think about."

"Jean? 'Ro? Oh, wait I've got it … Jubilee."

"Dr. Feelmeup, the Ego Goddess or Big Bird's motor mouth baby sister – right."

"What about Kitty?" Marie inquired.

"Might be a little crowded, what with Scott's hand up that particular skirt."

"WHAT?"

"Just something I saw out in the garage as I was leaving."

"Well, that does explain why he'd offered to be her driving instructor and Kitty always comes home reeking of Scott's cologne. Close quarters in the car, my ass."

"Marie, I don't wanna discuss Scott's extra-curricular activities, okay?"

"Sorry – where were we?"

"You – wearing one of my shirts. So does that mean you were about to…"

Marie tried to stifle an embarrassed laugh.

"Talk to me. Paint me a picture of what you're doing," he requested.

"You have to pretend you're here in the room, sitting in a chair across from the bed watching me, okay?"

"Not gonna be a problem," he informed her, already visualizing himself there.

Marie noticeably cleared her throat.

"You're wearing a pair of gray sweats, but your yummy chest is bare and I have on your red and black shirt, but it's not buttoned up so a ribbon of skin is showing just wide enough to see the curve of my breasts. Are you with me so far, Logan?"

"Trust me, I'm _so_ there."

"I saunter over to you, step out of my panties and then straddle your lap. You go to reach for the shirt, but I swat your hands away and warn you that you can look, but you can't touch."

"That's not fair," Logan interrupted.

"My game. My rules," Marie informed him.

"You take a deep breath that does all kinds of nice things to the muscles in that glorious chest of yours. I can't resist the urge to start exploring it – first with my hands, my fingers combing through all that dark hair – and then with my mouth as I caress you with gentle kisses everywhere_. _I give a wiggle with my bottom and press down onto your erection, which causes you let to out a chest-vibrating growl that makes my lips tingle. As I kiss my way upward to take one of your earlobes into my mouth you cheat a little and ease my shirt open so that now my bare breasts are in direct contact with your chest, but I don't mind because the sensation feels so damn good. I'm so turned on by this point, but somehow I manage to remember that you want to watch me, so I reluctantly break contact and slide off of you and head back to the bed."

On the phone Logan was quiet except for the deep gulping breaths.

"I lay down on the bed and start to part the shirt – slowly – gradually exposing my body to your heated gaze. I run my hands over myself, beginning with my breasts – I cup them as my thumbs caress my nipples, making them peak. Then my right hand begins moving down over my stomach and I part my legs slightly as it reaches my …"

Just then Logan let out a low, but audible growl, which caused Marie to stop.

"Keep going," he pleaded huskily.

"I comb my fingers through the little strip of hair until I reach my clit. I spread my legs a little further apart to make sure you have a real good view as I begin to rub myself. It really turns me on to see that you've pushed your sweats down and you're touching yourself as you watch me."

Little did Marie know that by this point in their conversation, Logan had already taken things 'firmly in hand'.

"I'm rubbing myself harder as I move closer to the edge. I feel your eyes burning into me as your own hand moves faster on your cock. I'm watching you watching me and then you lick your lips and that does it for me - I scream your name as I come."

Logan picked up the story.

"I can't take it anymore. I strip off the sweats, stalk over to the bed, move your hand out of the way and replace it with my mouth. You taste like honey and I know I could spend hours running my tongue over you."

"But you don't," Marie interrupts, "After you make me come again, you splay my legs apart even more and plunge into me in one hard thrust."

"I bury my face in your neck and nip at it to mark you as mine," he informs her.

"I bring my legs up and wrap them around your hips to pull you deeper inside me."

"I growl as you thrash beneath me, the animal in me so close to the surface," Logan pants.

"I'm moaning your name as you thrust into me harder."

By this time they were both breathing hard as they hurtled towards their mutual releases.

Marie cried out "Logan!" just as Logan practically howled "Marie!"

For the next few minutes the only sound was Logan attempting to catch his breath as he heard Marie on the other end of the phone trying to do the same.

Marie was the one able to speak first and in a husky whisper she asked, "So when I can finally master control, will you come home and do that to me for real?"

"Absolutely," Logan answered, his voice still ragged and his hard-on renewed.

"Wow, talk about a much better incentive than just getting a bunch of new clothes, " Marie laughed.

"You probably shouldn't bother buying any more new clothes until after I get home anyway, 'cause I'll probably just have to replace everything I rip off of you."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure the bedroom is a clothing-free zone then, won't we?"

"Send me another picture of you in one of your new outfits," Logan requested.

"I just got a bikini today, want me to send you a picture of me wearing that?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Okay, check your e-mail in a little while," she told him.

Logan reluctantly said goodbye because he wanted her to get the photo done. He found himself pacing the room and checking his e-mail every few minutes. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality had been less than thirty minutes he heard the dulcet tone of 'You've got mail' and with trembling fingers opened Marie's message.

**From: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: more photos**

_Logan,_

_They say a picture's worth a thousand words – so here's a couple of thousand._

_Love,_

_Marie_

Logan opened the first attachment and his eyes just about fell out of his head – Marie was wearing, correction – almost wearing – a tiny forest green bikini. It was hardly more than a few miniscule scraps of fabric held together with what appeared to be dental floss.

_Oh fuck me…slowly._

He then opened the second attachment figuring it was just another pose of her wearing the same bikini and almost had a heart attack right there on the spot. This photo featured Marie completely naked except for his dog tag dangling between her breasts. As so often with all things Marie-related, once again there wasn't enough blood flow in his head to form a coherent thought.

When he finally regained his ability to think, he tried to calculate that if she had at least partial control how long he could touch her before ending up in the medlab. ~_Touching Marie, then a brief coma – would be worth it. ~ _As Logan slept that night, his nightmares of the lab and the torture he'd endured there were replaced by much more pleasant visions.

The next day Marie received a mysterious e-mail.

**From: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: Delilah**

_Marie,_

_Tune in to the "Delilah" radio show tonight._

_Love,_

_Logan_

The "Delilah" show was a syndicated radio show featuring dedications from listeners, usually of the sentimental variety. Marie was surprised that Logan even knew about the show and couldn't imagine why he'd tell her to listen to it. About thirty minutes into the program she had her answer.

"Tonight we have a first time caller," Delilah's soothing voice announced, "Go ahead, Logan."

"Well, I wanna dedicate a song to someone who kinda snuck into my life," Logan began.

"And into your heart, too?" Delilah interrupted.

"Yeah," he replied, "My life was pretty much in the toilet when I met her, but she's given me something I haven't had in a long time – hope. It's like someone up there decided to give me my very own angel. Anyway, I had to leave to go take care of some stuff and I never said anything to her before I took off, but I want her to know how much she means to me."

"And what's this angel's name?" Delilah asked.

"It's Marie," Logan almost sighed her name.

"Okay Marie, this one's for you from Logan."

Then the smooth voice of Lionel Richie filled Marie's room.

I just want to tell you all the things you are  
And all the things you mean to me  
When I find myself believing there's no place to go  
When I feel the loneliness inside my heart

You're the answer to my prayer  
And you're with me everywhere  
You're my angel, miracle  
You're all I need tonight

Give me shelter from the rain  
You breathe life in me again  
You're my angel, miracle  
You're all I need to know tonight

Life is just a moment, we're blowing in the wind  
We're tryin' to find a friend  
And only time can tell us if we win or if we lose  
And who will stand beside us

When there's darkness all around me you're the light I see  
When I need someone to ease my troubled mind

You're the answer to my prayer  
And you're with me everywhere  
You're my angel, miracle  
You're all I need tonight

Give me shelter from the rain  
You breathe life in me again  
You're my angel, miracle  
You're all I need to know, oh, tonight

Oh You're my angel  
Uh-huh  
All I need tonight  
You're my angel

By the end of the song tears blurred Marie's vision – this was big, this was very big.


	3. The Return Of Mystique

Chapter Three: The Return Of Mystique

Logan was enjoying his nightly ritual with Marie, she was like a drug that he was hopelessly addicted to, and like any junkie he needed his daily 'fix'. He found himself anxiously watching the clock each evening to call her at the appointed time. As usual he asked her what she was wearing – after she'd told him about wearing his shirt and why, the game now included her describing articles of clothing and then proceeding to strip them off. Tonight's answer was not what he was expecting, though.

"Scott's scent," Marie whispered guiltily.

The large vein in Logan's neck began to throb as his blood pressure climbed toward the ceiling.

"I hope you're joking, Marie," he managed to force out between clenched teeth.

"Oh God, Logan – I'm so sorry. Our phone calls were making me so horny and tonight I was alone with Scott in the gym – he took his shirt off and I just lost all control and jumped him. He was a little startled at first, but then he ripped a hole in my leotard, rolled on a condom and we were going at it like rabbits in heat," Marie paused. "And now he wants to marry me."

Logan began to laugh - hard.

"Oh, you're just begging for a spanking, aren't you? Damnit Marie, you really had me going there for a minute."

"Well, you better get your fine ass home soon, sugar, or Scott may find himself raped."

"You stay away from Scott."

"I know, or you'll spank me," Marie sighed in mock exasperation.

"So what are you really wearing?" he asked in an effort to get the conversation back on track.

"A dark green bra and matching panties. Do you want me to take them off?"

"Allow me," Logan replied seductively.

"Okay, but no cutting anything – I happen to like this set," Marie warned jokingly.

"Fine, spoil my fun. Okay, I start with the bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders and kissing you just where your breasts begin to swell as I reach behind you and unhook the clasp. I pull it off, toss it over my shoulder and move to relieve you of those panties. I ease them down – slowly, which takes a lot of willpower 'cause I can smell how aroused you are. They're finally all the way down those long legs and now stuffed into the back pocket of my jeans." Logan paused and then added, "Souvenir."

Logan couldn't see Marie smile to herself or know about the idea that flickered through her brain.

Logan continued, "Then I play Magellan and go exploring all over you – with my tongue."

"You know, Logan, not that I wanna seem like I'm complaining or anything, because it certainly makes me tingly to think of your mouth all over me, but it's been a while since you've described kissing me on my lips," Marie said.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure. Lemme think," she paused momentarily and then began a checklist, "Let's see – there and there and oh, yeah – plenty of times **there**, and you do seem to have a fondness for my nipples."

"That's your fault. I can't stop obsessing about them ever since you sent me that photo. It gives me a hard-on just thinking about them."

"Well, I'm glad they give you a 'happy', but right now I'd like you to concentrate on a part of me that's a little higher."

"So you wanna be kissed, huh?"

"Yes please," Marie replied politely.

"Hmmm, okay – I'll give it a shot," Logan began, "I start by pressing my lips against your forehead – kinda like I did that night on the Statue. Your eyes are closed, so I kiss each eyelid, then the top of one cheek and across the bridge of your nose to the other cheek before heading down to your succulent mouth. I kiss first one corner and then brush my lips over yours, barely touching them and kiss the other corner. I caress your lips with mine – very gently, just the lightest of touches and then I nibble just a little on your full bottom lip. You taste so sweet and my tongue licks at you hungrily. When you part your lips in a gasp I slide my tongue into your mouth and stroke it across yours. I press my lips against yours a little harder now as I drink you in. You're like nectar and I wanna sip on you forever. Our tongues are licking at each other as our moans are muffled within each other's mouths. I cup the back of your head to draw you in even closer as you thread your fingers through my hair. Everything is spinning, as our world narrows down to this one moment – nothing else exists except you and me. We kiss until our lips are numb and I curse the need to breathe that forces us to stop."

"Oh wow, Logan – I think my lips are actually tingling."

"That's not gonna be the only thing tingling when I get home," he promised.

She let out a low laugh that was like music to his ears.

"I may have a surprise for you soon," she told him.

"Cheerleader outfit?" he asked hopefully.

"Very funny."

"Catholic school girl uniform?"

"Logan!"

"I know. We find a really creative use for your scarves."

"You want me to tie you up?"

"Actually, I was thinking of you being the one lashed to the bedposts. I'd sneak in when you were asleep and do it, then slip the sheet down and wake you up with an Australian kiss."

"What's an Australian kiss? "

"It's just like a French kiss – except it's 'down under'," Logan replied with dirty laugh.

"You're determined to turn this into material for a letter to Penthouse, aren't you?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"You're incorrigible."

"Only when it comes to you, darlin'."

"And your fight groupies."

"There haven't been any fight groupies, Marie. I haven't been with anyone since you and I…" Logan trailed off.

"Seriously?" she asked – the shock evident in her voice.

"I want **you. **Only you," Logan admitted.

There was complete silence for a moment as he let that piece of news sink in.

"Marie?" he said, finally breaking the quiet calm.

"I guess I thought you were just playing with me. I never thought …" she replied softly.

"I wanna play with you, but I was never _playing_ with you. I love you, Marie and when I get home I wanna make love to you."

There, he'd finally said it out loud and the relief washed over him like a tidal wave.

"I love you, too, Logan. Jean said it's just a crush, but I know it's more than that. I ache for you. I want to be on my back with you over me…and in me," Marie confessed – also relieved to finally say it aloud.

"Marie, do yourself a favor and get plenty of rest, 'cause when I get home you won't be getting much sleep," he told her in an effort to lighten the mood after such substantial confessions.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise," he replied.

After they'd said their goodnights Marie lay awake unable to sleep because of the weight of their mutual declarations. Logan had told her he loved her and she'd reciprocated what she'd felt in her heart for months, but never thought she'd ever be brave enough to divulge to him. She realized that even if she never wrestled control over her mutation that they'd find away around it, but she wanted desperately to be embraced in his arms without barriers – to have the sensation of his chest hair tickling her breasts and his hard cock deeply imbedded in her as their mouths locked in a scorching kiss.

As Marie ran her fingers lightly over her body she imagined it was Logan's mouth ghosting over her, his lips just a whisper against her skin. Then he'd use his tongue to brush over her nipples, leaving them moist and hard and finally trailing down to taste her where she ached for him. She imagined returning the favor – alternating between soft kisses dropped delicately all over his furred chest and tender nibbles on his stomach before taking his cock into the heat of her mouth.

Marie dipped her fingers between her legs as she imagined him making love to her – tenderly at first and then with an increased intensity as they hurtled towards simultaneous release. She cried out his name as she brought herself to orgasm. As she lay there still shaking from the potency of her climax she made a promise to herself that the session scheduled with the Professor the next day was going to be a triumphant success.

The next morning Logan drove to Winnipeg and bought a couple of things that he shipped overnight to Marie. He'd found a large stuffed wolverine in a toy store called 'Elements of Nature' and slipped a heart-shaped diamond necklace around its neck – along with a note that read:

_The diamond represents my heart – which I'm officially giving to you and Wolvie junior is to sleep with until you can have the real thing._

_Love, _

_Logan._

Logan wasn't the only one in the gift-giving mood as a package from Marie arrived the following day. The desk clerk handed it to Logan who immediately caught a scent he thought had to be a mistake. He hurried back to his room and bypassing the 'pull tab', ripped the envelope open with one claw. Amidst the wreckage of the package was the source of the aroma that was making Logan delirious – a pair of black lace panties. Marie's panties. There was no need for a note – the message was crystal clear. Logan knew that she was taking one of her final exams today and wouldn't be in her room, so he dashed off a quick e-mail note to her.

**From: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: The scent you sent.**

I have your scent imprinted in my brain now and when I get home I'm gonna mark you with mine.

Logan.

Ever since he'd received Marie's *care* package, Logan had been in a state of constant arousal – he stalked through the evening with an almost feral intensity. He attempted to channel all that raw energy into the fights, but even laying out a dozen opponents in the cage couldn't quell his body's overwhelming urge to mate. Two bottles of rot gut liquor failed to do it either. He needed more than just a raunchy phone call tonight – more than just the sound of her voice and his own hand. The Wolverine needed to be satisfied on a far more primal level. He considered finding a willing woman who looked enough like Marie that he could fantasize it was her as she lay beneath him. Surveying the slim pickings in this evening's fight audience and finding nobody satisfyingly close enough, he left the bar and headed across the street following the strain of music drifting out of the town's other watering hole.

Opening the door and walking in he was immediately bombarded with the throbbing hum of the over-amplified music and the aroma of a hundred different perfumes and colognes overlaid with a hint of sweat from the crowd gyrating on the packed dance floor.

The place may have been teeming with people, but a familiar scent filtered through the throng. He targeted her at the bar and maneuvered his way through the undulating bodies, her spicy scent became more enticing the closer he moved to her. Logan slid onto the bar stool next to her and watched as she casually speared the olive in her martini, then brought it up to her mouth and sensuously sucked it in.

"So what's your sign?" Logan asked jokingly.

"Yield," she replied coquettishly and fluttered long dark lashes at him.

Logan let out a low laugh. Her deep brown eyes flickered with amusement and if it weren't for the wrong scent, he would've sworn the woman perched on the stool next to him was Marie. Mystique had resurfaced and obviously still wanted to play and Logan was horny enough to want to be toyed with.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Mystique raised her martini glass.

"Can I buy you another one then?" Logan asked as he tossed her a look that was known to melt women even at great distances, but was particularly effective close up.

"You don't have to get me drunk first," Mystique informed him in a southern-accented voice as she dragged her eyes appreciatively over the well-defined muscles of his chest, showcased so magnificently in a tight black t-shirt.

Logan took her hand, placed it against his erection, leaned over and whispered against her ear, "So, can I show you something in your size?"

Mystique felt the shiver of anticipation all the way down to her toes and a rush of wetness between her legs. Logan immediately detected the pheromones that were wafting off of her and began to lose what little grip he had left on the man as the animal that needed to be sated rose closer to the surface.

"If you stop this time, I'll do something to you that even your healing factor won't be able to fix," she warned without realizing just how far 'gone' he was by this time.

Pressing her hand firmer against his hard-on, Logan asked, "Do you think I could stop, even if I wanted to?"

It was then that Mystique caught the look of pure heat in his eyes that revealed the barely restrained passion for the one she was impersonating, the implicitness of his appreciation crystal clear and she acknowledged her acceptance with a slight dip of her head. It wasn't often that an opportunity like this came knocking, and Mystique was definitely an opportunist, if nothing else. So she'd have to be the brat, the degradation and humiliation would be worth it if it meant getting him in the sack. She may have fought him with everything she had in her that night at the Statue, but all she'd really wanted to do was peel off that leather uniform and ride him hard. She wasn't about to let something as inconsequential as being on opposing sides interfere with her own needs – and she needed him. Needed him to pound into her and make her scream his name – even if it meant letting him pretend she was someone else. It seemed rather a small price to pay for the pleasure she knew she'd derive from the experience.

"Let's go," she said as she eased off the barstool and started to walk toward the exit.

After a heartbeat, when he didn't appear to be following, she turned around and saw that one side of his mouth was turned up in a sexy half smile and realized that he was watching the way she moved. Counterfeit soft brown eyes met the heated hazel eyes of a hunter stalking his prey and Mystique felt another rush of wetness pool between her legs. She hoped they'd make it to a bed, as it would be inconvenient to be arrested for public indecency. Mystique chewed on her bottom lip the way she'd seen Marie do it and it had an immediate effect on Logan as he was off the bar stool instantly and in two long strides had her gathered in his arms.

Logan lowered his mouth to hers, but instead of the hard kiss he knew she was expecting he simply brushed his lips gently over hers. Mystique ran her fingertips over her tingling lips and then quickly regaining her composure she put her hand on the back of his head and pulled him to her for a decidedly more passionate kiss. She was rather pleased with herself when he was just as breathless as her when they finally parted, even though she knew he'd convinced himself she was someone else.

"If you'd prefer my bed to up against the wall in the alley, we'd better go now," Logan said huskily.

Once they were in his room Mystique realized that he probably had a specific fantasy about the way he wanted Marie to act, so she fought the urge to just rip his clothes off and instead let him take the lead. She was right as he started to slowly strip her, dusting each piece of exposed skin with a heated kiss. When he released just enough of one claw to slice open the front of her bra and then leaned down to flick his tongue across one exposed nipple she felt herself go weak in the knees. He trailed a path of teasing kisses down onto her stomach and then lower, until he was on his knees before her. She watched as he hooked his fingers into the band of her panties and then slowly lowered them down her legs. She stepped out of them and daintily kicked them aside as he leaned toward the junction of her thighs and inhaled her scent.

"Logan," she murmured in a low breathy voice.

He moaned **her** name in response as his mouth descended on her. She threaded her fingers through his thick dark hair as he stroked her with his tongue, ripples of pleasure shot through her like tiny jolts of electricity as she surrendered to him completely. He gave a firm suck on her clit and she came hard and shamelessly. When he stood up and stripped off the black t-shirt ~ revealing a muscular, hairy chest ~ Mystique practically had another orgasm. Logan took his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and placed it on the nightstand. He'd barely unbuttoned the faded jeans, slid the zipper down and dropped them to carpet before she pounced on him and began exploring his magnificent physique with both her hands and her mouth. She peppered his chest with open-mouthed kisses as one hand went to caress his perfect ass and the other one stroked his thick cock. He was so hard that she was tempted to ask if somehow it had been enhanced with adamantium too.

Mystique wasn't sure if she should get on her knees and suck him off, as that move seemed to be what made him stop and boot her out the last time, but his hands on her shoulders and giving her a gentle push in that direction told her apparently that was what he wanted this time. She knelt in front of him and gave the head a peripheral lick trying to decide whether to be the amateur she knew the brat was or to give him one hell of a blowjob. Egotism took precedence and she proceeded to lick and suck him expertly. She took great satisfaction in a job well done when he growled and emptied himself down her throat only moments later.

Logan pulled her to her feet, hauled her against him and swooped down on her mouth for a scorching kiss – his tongue tangling with hers, as they tasted each other's essence.

_Oh my God, I could spend the rest of my life kissing this man._

As she hadn't been thrown down and mounted fiercely, Mystique realized that Logan intended to make love to her and not just fuck her senseless.

_He must actually love the brat._

She had no delusions that he was thinking about her instead of the real Marie, but the craving for him overwhelmed any sense of pride. Still wrapped around each other, they made their way over to the bed where Logan lowered them down gently – never breaking the intimate contact of their mouths. He finally released his hold on her lips to trail his mouth along her jawline and then down onto her throat. She tilted her head slightly, exposing her jugular vein as he began licking the creamy skin where her pulse throbbed. She ran the pads of her fingers over the sculpted muscles of his chest, combing through the crisp dark hair as his mouth abandoned her throat and moved lower. He cupped her breasts in his large hands and when she thrust them up in invitation he nibbled on one rosy tip before drawing it into the warmth of his mouth and sucking on it gently. Logan favored the other nipple with the same attention before planting a row of soft kisses down onto her stomach, stopping to swirl his tongue into the crevice of her navel before heading lower.

Mystique propped herself up on her elbows and said, "I want you in me – now!"

"What's yer hurry, darlin' – we've got all night," he replied with a mischievous wink and then proceeded to sink his tongue into her.

The exquisite pleasure surging through her effectively ended her protests as she shattered in a second powerful orgasm. Mystique knew that Logan probably didn't spend this much time on foreplay with his usual bedmates. She sensed that prior to his interest in the brat he was more the 'hump and dump' type – more concerned with simply 'getting off' than about the art of lovemaking. She hoped that the little brat would appreciate the exception he would be making for her.

When Logan reached over to his wallet on the nightstand and retrieved a small square packet, Mystique knew her waiting to be penetrated was over.

He ripped open the packet, removed the latex disc and quickly rolled it on. Then brushing his lips against her ear he whispered, "Tell me what you want, Marie."

"I want you inside of me, " she replied, her voice almost a plea.

Logan nudged her legs apart and positioning himself at her entrance proclaimed, "I love you, baby." as he slid home.

Mystique arched her back and raised her hips slightly in order to encourage him to penetrate her deeper and he complied with a strong plunge that embedded him to the hilt. He put his hands on her waist and began thrusting as she rotated her hips in small circles and rose up to meet each thrust. She couldn't remember the last time a man, or a woman for that matter, had made love to her instead of merely just fucking her and she was going to milk as much enjoyment out of this as she possibly could. She writhed beneath him as he drove into her again and again – moaning **he**r name, which Mystique conveniently ignored. If he could get lost in the fantasy, so could she.

Several hours and many mutual orgasms later they lay snuggling – a first for Mystique and she guessed a first for Logan as well. He murmured **he**r name once more before drifting off to sleep and one lone tear slid down Mystique's cheek before sleep claimed her too.

Logan woke up the next morning to discover that Mystique had already left.

_Good. Saves me the bother of having to throw her out._

He got dressed and sat down on the edge of the rumpled bed – the scene of the crime - and put his head into his hands. How could he have been so stupid to have surrendered to Mystique of all women? He chastised himself for his lack of self-control.

I just told Marie I loved her and then I go out and fuck someone else – how could I be such a complete bastard?

Just then the familiar 'You've got mail' broke the silence. Instinctively he knew it was Marie and he just couldn't face her yet. Instead he grabbed his wallet off the nightstand, stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and left the room.

He walked down to the corner diner and ordered a big breakfast. Lingering over his third cup of coffee, he realized that he was avoiding going back to the room, knowing her message was waiting innocently for him. He'd have to stay away from her until the guilt no longer gnawed at his gut.

He walked around until he was bored and finally returned to the room. Clicking on her message he hoped it was some trivial piece of news because he didn't think he could deal with anything sexual at this point. The message's subject line read: _Guess what?_

Logan glanced down at the body of the message and drew in a sharp breath – it contained only five words:

I CAN CONTROL IT ~ SURPRISE!

_Oh Jesus fucking Christ! _


	4. Confessions Of A Guilty Mind

Chapter Four: Confessions Of A Guilty Mind

Logan just sat staring at the computer screen for a solid hour trying to process Marie's monumental news. There had been many events in his life that could be attributed to the worst timing known to man, but this took the grand prize. He should've gone home as soon as he realized the effect her scent on those panties was having on him. Instead he'd been a total idiot and slept with a poor substitute. In his aroused state he'd managed to persuade himself she was Marie, but now he couldn't even convincingly justify that pitiful excuse to himself – so how was he going to rationalize it to her?

While they weren't officially together, they'd certainly moved their relationship beyond mere pals – they'd masturbated together – only actual penetration would be any more intimate. Not to mention the fact that he'd sent her the symbolic heart and they'd exchanged 'I love you's'. For all intents and purposes he was 'off the market'. All they would've needed to do was get a license, stand before someone official and have the wedding night to seal the deal. And now he'd probably blown it because he knew he was going to be – had to be – honest with her about what had happened. Logan had a long list of things he'd done in his life that he wasn't proud of – lying to Marie was not about to be added to it.

He realized he couldn't ignore the message for too long because Marie knew he checked his e-mail regularly. She'd be expecting a phone call, but he couldn't face hearing that voice that flowed over him like warm honey. He really wasn't quite sure how'd she take the news of his betrayal – would she be furious, devastated, retaliatory or 'D', all of the above? The first two he could deal with, but if she sought revenge by sleeping with … The thought of her in another man's arms – another man's bed. No, he refused to even consider that possibility. He didn't think Marie was that type of person – chose to believe she wouldn't seek retribution that way.

But Scott, that dick, was just looking for any excuse to pay Logan back for flirting with Jean and if Marie went crying to him, he'd probably offer to comfort her and then …

Logan released the claws and sunk them into the already damaged headboard, imagining the wood was Scott's lungs. He gave a firm twist before pulling out the three blades and retracting them back into his hand. He could handle Marie being with anyone except Scott and if Cyke was stupid enough to lay a finger on Marie he was a dead man, which he realized was completely hypocritical after what he'd done – but he was way beyond rational by this point.

He paced the room for an hour, took another shower in some fruitless attempt to wash away his sin, drove around aimlessly for another two hours, bought enough alcohol to host a frat house party and then finally returned to his room where he proceeded to polish off every last drop of the liquor. Unfortunately, due to his healing factor, an hour after that he was completely sober again and the pain the alcohol had temporarily dulled came back ten-fold. He thought it was too bad that he couldn't simply be struck dead because mourning his death would probably be less painful in the long run for Marie than finding out about his betrayal with Mystique. Logan didn't need anyone else beating up on him for what he'd done – he was doing a fine job of it all by himself.

He glanced at the clock – it had been too long since he'd received her e-mail – by now she'd suspect that something was wrong – although she'd be way off in her guess as to exactly what that something was. He knew he'd have to bite the proverbial bullet and make the call that would more than likely destroy his future. He gingerly picked up the phone, started to dial and then hung up halfway through the number. For a brief moment he considered disappearing off the radar – breaking all contact with her and simply vanishing, but realized he couldn't leave her that way - without closure. He'd have to be a man, face her and take whatever punishment she dolled out.

He was sweating and actually trembling as he picked up the receiver and agonizingly slowly dialed her number. The connection was made and he was sorely tempted to back out before she had a chance to answer.

It was too late, Marie answered the phone and was obviously thrilled to hear Logan's familiar "Hey, baby." She'd wondered what had taken him so long to call – surely he'd received her e-mail with *the news*. It's what they'd been waiting for – to be together without having to resort to being creative. It was supposed to be the milestone that signified the turning point in their relationship, when they'd move beyond the pretending to the tangible. There was something in his voice, something off – he didn't sound as excited as he should've been. Maybe for some inexplicable reason he hadn't gotten her message. But why did he sound so depressed?

"Logan, did you get my e-mail?" Marie asked, cutting right to the chase.

"Yeah, I got it," he responded quietly.

Okay – something was definitely wrong and Marie felt the fear descend over her like a thick blanket of damp fog.

"Logan, what's wrong? Talk to me," she asked with trepidation – afraid of his answer.

"Oh God, Marie, I did a terrible thing," he choked out.

"Did you badly hurt someone in the cage?"

"I badly hurt someone, but not in the cage."

"Did you get into a brawl in the street?" she asked, trying to imagine exactly what kind of trouble Logan had gotten himself into.

"No. It wasn't some red-neck stranger I hurt – it was you."

"Me?" Marie was completely stymied, she had no clue what Logan was talking about, "Sugar, you're talking in riddles. What do you mean you hurt me? How?"

"Because I'm a complete and utter bastard," he replied.

That failed to shed any light on things and Logan's cryptic answers were not only mystifying, but also beginning to frighten her.

She swallowed hard and nervously said, "Just spit it out, Logan."

"I was with someone last night," he practically whispered.

It was a good thing that Marie was already sitting down because she was certain she would've fallen over. There was dead silence as she processed that piece of information. He'd been with someone – someone who wasn't her. She also had the distinct feeling that it was about to get a whole lot worse.

"That's not all," Logan started to say, the hesitation in his voice unmistakable.

And she was right. She braced herself for his further exposition, clutching at the fragment of adamantium hanging around her neck as if it were a rosary.

"It was Mystique. She came to me as you and I…" Logan trailed off, the exact words being unnecessary.

Mystique had gone to him disguised as her and he'd somehow been fooled?

"You thought it was me? You couldn't tell?" Marie asked, praying that he'd tell her his nose had been crushed in a fight, his healing factor was over-taxed and his heightened senses weren't working properly.

She knew that was grasping at straws, because even if all of that **had** been a factor, her sudden appearance in Manitoba should've been a red-flag warning that something wasn't authentic. She wanted so desperately to believe that he hadn't recognized he was being played and went along with it anyway.

"Yes. No. Maybe," he replied with a distinct catch in his voice.

"I love you so much, Marie, and if I could take back what I did, I would. All I can do is beg your forgiveness. Please, Marie. I've never begged for anything in my whole life – not even for mercy when those bastards were torturing me in the lab," Logan pleaded, completely broken.

He sounded so crushed. So defeated. But there was also something in his failure to claim that somehow he'd been fooled until after it was too late, which told Marie that even if it was merely a tickle of acknowledgment, he'd known all along it was Mystique.

There was a deafening silence that permeated the line.

"Marie, say something… please."

"You said you loved me. How could you be with her after telling me that?"

Logan honestly didn't have an answer for that.

"Go back to her, Logan. It's the closest you're ever gonna get to me now," she said frighteningly calm.

And then Logan was left with the dial tone echoing in his ears.

Naturally he tried calling back immediately and wasn't surprised when he got her voicemail, so he logged on and sent her an e-mail.

**From: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**To: keeper of the tag at hotmail dot com**

_Subject: Sorry_

_Marie,_

_I'm so sorry, baby. I know you're pissed at me right now and I don't blame you._

_I love you. Forgive me. Please._

_Logan_

He wasn't particularly shocked when even hours later she hadn't replied. Calling her private line again, he was greeted by the revised message of her voicemail.

"_Hi, I'm not available at the moment, so please leave a message – except for Logan, who can fuck off."_

After the beep he left a long rambling message. He realized he was being totally pathetic, but he didn't care – he was absolutely desperate. He then called the main switchboard and asked to be connected to Jubilee and Kitty's room, figuring she might be there. Instead he got their voicemail as well.

"_Hi there, this is Jube's – Kitty and I aren't available to talk dirty to you in person right now, so at the tone please leave your name, dick size and body parts you want licked." _

With an exasperated sigh Logan hung up without leaving a message. He then went back on-line and bombarded Marie's mailbox with apologetic notes. Thinking that pounding several loudmouthed idiots would give him something to do for a few hours, he headed over to the Snake Pit Bar. Unfortunately he was so distracted that he was actually taken down twice before he called it a night. He might heal rapidly, but he certainly still felt the pain – although even that tangible agony failed to dull the acute mental ache he was experiencing. If this was what love did to a person, then love royally - and officially - sucked.

Meanwhile Marie was contemplating whom she could go to for a shoulder to cry on. Jubes and Kitty as her two best friends should've been the logical choice, but neither one of them could keep a secret if their lives depended on it and Marie really didn't want the car wreck that was her love life spread throughout the entire mansion like some airborne virus. She couldn't go to Bobby either, because he'd be devastated that she'd preferred a phone relationship with Logan to an actual one with him. Scott? While he'd certainly be happy to hear it was Marie that Logan had chosen to stay in contact with and not Jean, she already figured his advice would be _'Forget the bastard.'_ Jean? Definitely not. While Jean had been friendly and kind to her since she'd first arrived, they weren't close in the 'share confidences over cups of coffee' kind of way. And then there the small matter of Logan having divulged what Jean had told him about her crush, and to Marie that just smacked of being unnecessary and a tad bitchy on Jean's part. The Professor was too immersed in the running of the school and protecting the world from evil to have the spare time to worry about one mutant girl's insignificant romantic problems.

By process of elimination Miss Monroe seemed her best shot at getting a little compassion and understanding. Although with her own dismal love life, Marie wasn't sure if she'd get advice from her that would actually be of any use. As the stuffed wolverine that Logan had sent her just wasn't cutting it, she decided to seek out Miss Monroe. At least she wouldn't just sit there with a blank look like Wolvie junior. Well, hopefully not.

Marie found Ororo in the greenhouse tending to her beloved orchids and all it took was the weather goddess casually inquiring as to how she was doing for the dam to burst wide open and for Marie to pour out her troubles. Storm guided her into the kitchen, as this was definitely a 'we must eat ice cream, and lots of it' kind of problem.

A pint of Haagen-Dazs and half a box of tissue later Marie returned to her room. She thought she'd cried it all out, but going into the bathroom to wash her face and seeing the space she'd set aside for Logan's toiletries made her eyes well up again. It was when she opened the closet to throw her clothes into the laundry hamper and saw the section she'd reserved for him there as well that the full-fledged crying began again.

When Logan heard the familiar drone of 'You've got mail' he jumped up as if a million volts had just passed through him and clicked on his e-mail with a mixture of fear and hope.

**To: owner of the tag at hotmail dot com**

**From: Sockpuppet at hotmail dot com**

**Subject: Rogue**

Do Rogue a favor and leave her alone.

Sock Puppet

_Fuck this shit. _

Logan had had just about enough of this dicking around, and he began throwing things in his duffel bag. He was going home.


	5. Operation Tempt Marie

Chapter Five: Operation Tempt Marie

Logan made one last futile attempt to call Marie before checking out of the motel, but wasn't surprised when he got her voicemail again. He decided not to forewarn her that he was on his way back for fear that she'd disappear on him. Mapquest had indicated the 2700-kilometer journey should take approximately thirty-one hours, but Logan was hoping to cut that time considerably with Scott's modified bike. He crossed the border into North Dakota and started to make his way east, stopping only to refuel the bike and himself. He planned on being able to knock on or knock down Marie's door sometime within the next twenty-four hours.

Weary, even for him – twenty-one hours later he was within fifty miles of his goal. Seeing the sign for the exit that was his connection to Westchester, Logan took the exit that would lead him into the city instead. He had something he wanted to pick up before going to the mansion and throwing himself shamelessly on Marie's mercy – something he'd hoped would help show her that despite his incredibly asinine mistake – she was *The One*.

At the store on Fifth Avenue he spent a solid hour carefully choosing just the right expression of his commitment. After handing over a considerable chunk of his fight earnings he placed the small velvet box in the inside pocket of his leather jacket – the pocket closest to his heart – it seemed considerably appropriate. He was now less than an hour away from 'do or die' time.

As he pulled into the driveway, Logan could hear the rapid pounding of his heartbeat – he'd never been more nervous in his entire remembered life. If Marie rejected him he was just going straight to Scott and insult the man so that he'd get blasted with enough force that his healing factor couldn't fix it.

Upon entering the house the first person he encountered was Ororo, who fixed him with a 'you've got a lot of nerve' look.

"Don't take advice, do you?" she snapped as she stood there with her arms folded across her chest and defiantly blocking his way.

_Guess I know who 'Sock Puppet' is. _

"Get outta my way, 'Ro. I ain't telling ya twice," he warned in a low growl.

Realizing that the tough approach wasn't going to work on Logan, or even faze him for a moment, she changed tactics.

"Logan, please, don't do this," Ororo started to say.

"Do what? All I want to do is talk to her," Logan said a little calmer.

"And say what? She looked like you, therefore you should be flattered."

Logan already understood that excuse was weak, but hearing it out loud made it seem all the more insulting. He'd really fucked up, he knew it and he also accepted that just acknowledging it and apologizing wasn't going to be sufficient.

"I appreciate your supporting Rogue and wishing to protect her, but can you at least let us try and work this out between the two of us?"

Ororo seemed to stand down at that and said, "Okay, but you'd better make one hell of an effort."

"No worries there," he replied, "Where is she?"

"In her room," she told him as she stepped aside to let him pass.

As Logan moved past her, he turned and said, "I do love her, 'Ro."

"I know you do, or I'd have blasted you into the next county with a bolt of lightening that would've made the one I unleashed on Toad look like a mild zap."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Logan's face as he bounded up the main staircase, two steps at a time. It wasn't until he was standing in front of Marie's door that he hesitated. He offered up a silent prayer to a God he'd long abandoned that he be empowered with the ability to say, if not the absolute perfect thing, then at least nothing that would make the situation any worse. He knew he couldn't live without her – well, technically he could, he just didn't want to have to. Knocking on the door lightly, he sucked in his breath and heard his heartbeat thrumming erratically.

Marie opened the door. Her hair was piled up loosely on her head with tendrils framing her face and she was wearing a white cotton sundress. To complete the ethereal picture the sunlight streaming in from the French doors on the far side of the room caused an angelic halo effect to surround her. She looked so beautiful that Logan wanted to fall at her feet, sobbing and begging for her forgiveness. Then he wanted to sweep her up in his arms, carry her over to the bed and erase the memory of what he'd done.

"Marie," he said in a gasp of air, as he finally released the breath he'd been holding.

She just stood there quietly, her eyes glistening as they filled with tears.

"I know I've been a complete bastard who doesn't deserve another chance. I know that. But I'm asking for one anyway."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I made a mistake. I'm not gonna make excuses or try and rationalize it. I'm just gonna say that I'm sorry – so very, very sorry, Marie. And whatever I have to do to set things right between us, I'll do it – just tell me what I gotta do."

Marie thought she'd be prepared to see him again, that her wounded pride would give her the strength to tell him to go to Hell, but with him actually standing there before her, looking so remorseful, she found her resolve weakening. The tears were flowing freely now and Logan moved to wipe them away, but she backed up a couple of steps and ran her own hand over one cheek.

"I don't know," she whispered, then continued, "This was not the way I had your big homecoming planned. You were supposed to come back, sweep me off my feet, carry me over to the bed and finally make love to me. We weren't supposed to be having an awkward moment at this particular point. Damn you for screwing it all up."

"We could go with Plan A and talk later," Logan said with a small smile.

Marie looked at him standing there ~ all sexy and rumpled ~ and she was tempted. Oh God how she was tempted. She'd been fantasizing about this man since the moment she'd first laid eyes on him ~ half-naked ~ in Laughlin City and here he stood offering to make all those fantasies come true. She tried bringing the thoughts of how he'd betrayed her to the forefront, but images of them writhing together in ecstasy kept attempting to squeeze them out. The memories of how he'd satisfied other women also chose a highly inappropriate time to resurface. Marie closed her eyes in frustration, as if that would help push back the erotic visuals swirling through the confusion.

Logan noted the change in her scent from anger to arousal, but tamped down the urge to take advantage of that knowledge. He was bound and determined to let her set the pace for this reunion. He realized that he deserved to be left dangling for a while, but he was still hoping her baser instincts would win the internal battle he knew she was currently waging.

_Please God, just let her jump me now and punish me later. _

"I love you, Logan and I wanna get past this. I do," she started to say and Logan saw his opportunity.

He took two steps towards her and gathered her against him. Instinctively she snuggled against him as he wrapped his powerful arms around her – enveloping her in his touch. She was finally where she'd dreamed of being and it felt so amazing to hear the thrumming of his heartbeat in her ear and feel the solid warmth of his chest beneath her cheek.

"Then we'll work it out. Together," he said as he tilted her chin up and leaned down.

When she didn't attempt to push away from him, he brushed his lips lightly over hers. He was pleasantly surprised when she leaned into him and kissed him back. Bolstered by this, he put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her to him for another kiss. His tongue came out just enough for the tip to lick at the seam of her lips, which she parted and soon the kiss deepened. Logan took that as a good sign and swept her up into his arms and kicking the door shut he began walking them over to the bed.

"Stop!" Marie said, breaking the spell of the moment, "We can't do this. It's not going to magically solve our problems, Logan."

Logan reluctantly put her back down and sorrowfully said, "I know."

"I've made some room for your stuff," she said unexpectedly.

Puzzled, Logan asked, "You want me to stay here – with you?"

She'd left the spaces she'd set aside, perhaps unconsciously knowing that eventually he'd need them – that she'd need him to use them.

"We can't exactly work things out if you're on the other side of the mansion in the guest wing," Marie answered quietly as she looked down at her foot that was tracing circles in the rug and then glanced back up at him through long sooty lashes.

She wanted to work things out and Logan sent a small prayer of thanks skyward.

Quickly, before she changed her mind he began unpacking – happily noting that she'd made room for his stuff in the bathroom, dresser and closet. Marie sat on the edge of the bed watching him intently as he claimed the spaces she'd made for him.

Determined not to have sex with him until they'd suitably cleared the air, Marie wondered how long she'd be able to hold out while sharing a room ~ especially a bed ~ with him.

She was about to be faced with her first test when Logan stripped off to take a shower. It was like watching a teaser trailer for a porno movie. Unlike some men, Logan hadn't been exaggerating when he'd described his *attributes*. Marie bit down on her bottom lip to stop the gasp from being audible, but judging from the way Logan looked at her she was fairly certain he could easily hear the accelerated beating of her heart and smell the affect he was having on her. If he was going to be in the habit of walking around their suite bare-assed naked all the time, she could promptly kiss her self-control goodbye.

Logan walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open and Marie was sorely tempted to ask if he needed any help washing his back – or anything else. Then she chided herself for her complete lack of willpower at the first glimpse of his dick.

"Aw, shit." Came his voice from the bathroom. "Hey, Marie – I forgot to bring my shampoo in here with me and I don't wanna smell like 'Fruit Fusion' – would you do me favor and grab the bottle of my stuff off the counter, please?"

Marie walked into the bathroom, snagged the bottle he'd requested, opened the glass door and handed it to him – all while trying to keep her eyes safely above waist level, which still afforded her a view of his spectacular chest. The chest that was currently covered in little water droplets that she wanted to lick off of him.

"Thanks, baby," he said politely as he uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of the shampoo into his palm.

With one last lingering look, Marie shut the glass door, quickly retreated from the steam-filled room, and collapsed on her bed shaking and breathing hard.

In the shower Logan was formulating a plan he'd dubbed 'Operation Tempt Marie'. He knew it was wrong to use sex as a weapon in this little battle, but he was completely out of any other ideas. Going back to square one and doing the mating dance seemed kind of ridiculous in light of the e-mails and especially the phone calls. It wasn't like they could pretend they hadn't happened.

Fresh from the shower and without benefit of even a small towel wrapped around his waist, he came out of the bathroom and leisurely strolled over to the closet to get some clean clothes. Marie was sitting on the bed, now dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt with '_Angel_' spelled out in rhinestones, casually flipping through a magazine. She flicked her eyes in his direction.

_Brilliant idea, Marie – setting yourself up to be treated to a daily viewing of 'Masterpenis Theatre'. _

She gave Logan a small smile and pretended to be absorbed in her reading material, while trying to will her body not to betray her.

Logan tugged on a pair of clean jeans, but decided to forego the shirt. He parked himself next to her on the bed and tried not to smirk at the knowledge that she was radiating an overwhelming pheromonal response to his bare-chested presence.

"You wanna talk or what?" he asked.

Marie was suddenly grateful that his gift was healing and not telepathy or he would've known that staring at his magnificent chest, she was tempted to answer 'or what'.

"The fact that she was **me** didn't make it okay," she managed to say instead, hoping that cutting right to the chase would sufficiently distract her from the pleasure of ogling Logan's chest.

Logan noticed the change in her scent from arousal to anguish.

"I know that, Marie, and I'd never insult you by asking you to buy that excuse," he said sincerely.

"So where does that leave us?"

"That's up to you," Logan responded, hoping he hadn't just stupidly backed himself into a corner.

"I said I wanted to work things out. I just don't know how. God, this is so awkward," she murmured, the uncertainty plainly evident in her voice.

Logan reached out to tuck a strand of platinum behind her ear and said, "Let's just take things slowly – one day at a time, okay?"

Marie nodded her acceptance of that plan and Logan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

For dinner they ordered a pizza. When Marie went down to retrieve it from the deliveryman, she explained to everyone she encountered that Logan didn't feel like socializing just yet, which not surprisingly didn't shock anyone. Ororo asked her if she was okay and Marie offered her a reassuring yes.

"Dinner is served," she proclaimed as she re-entered her room, "There's some Molson's in the mini-fridge over by the desk."

Logan cocked an eyebrow at her as he headed toward the fridge.

"Scott bought it. Don't panic – it's not like I used a fake I.D. or something."

"Good. I don't want you acquiring any bad habits."

"Aren't you a bad habit?" Marie asked teasingly as she plunked herself down on the bed.

"Okay. Maybe just one bad habit," he said with a playful wink as he pulled out a beer for himself and a soda for her.

He sat down on the bed, opened the pizza box and then exclaimed, "Fucking idiots forgot half the pepperoni."

"No they didn't. I ordered it that way. I don't eat meat."

"Oh gee, that's too bad," he said as he tossed her a naughty look.

Marie lightly smacked him, "God, Logan, you're so bad."

"What? I meant that I can't take you out for a nice steak dinner. What were you thinking about, Miss Mind-In-The-Gutter?"

Marie blushed a deep shade of pink – even though they both knew what Logan had really meant with that comment – it still embarrassed her that he knew what she was thinking. She grabbed a slice of pizza and started chewing. Logan had inhaled his first slice and was halfway through his second before Marie had even taken her third bite.

"Remind me to keep my fingers out of your way when you're grazing."

Logan just made a grunting noise, polished off the crust and reached for his third slice.

After the pizza had been demolished with Logan not only eating his share but several slices of Marie's half, they settled in to watch television. Flipping through the channels and bypassing the decorating and cooking shows, Logan landed on a hockey game on ESPN and looked at Marie expectantly.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Okay. I guess I can read a book."

"Why don't you watch it with me? I can teach you the rules," Logan offered.

"What rules? A minute after the ref blows his whistle it deteriorates into a fist fight."

"Yeah!" Logan growled.

"You're such a caveman. Why can't you enjoy a nice calm sport, like golf?"

"Because if I wanted to commit suicide there are faster methods than being slowly bored to death. Do you know why the announcers whisper? It's 'cause they don't wanna wake up the spectators."

"Scott plays golf."

"Which proves my point exactly. Golf, the sport of poindexters everywhere."

"Scott's pretty cool once you get to know him."

"I doubt that. This house is full of nerds and he's their king."

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Marie announced as she scooted off the bed and headed toward the bathroom.

"Need any help washing your back….or 'er, maybe some other parts?"

"I think I can handle it. Watch your fight – I meant hockey game," she replied as she lifted off her t-shirt just as she crossed the threshold into the bathroom.

The door was open so Logan could see her as she wiggled out of her jeans. She reached behind her to unhook her bra and pulled it off, giving him a flash of creamy pink-tipped breasts and then noticing that he was watching her, she gave a little wave before kicking the door shut. Logan closed his mouth. He'd memorized the image of her breasts from the picture she'd e-mailed him, but seeing them in person, if only for a fraction of a moment, was something else entirely. He turned his attention back to the game, but he tried to think of a valid excuse to join her. Suddenly he had an idea, leapt off the bed and had his jeans undone by the time he entered the bathroom. Marie was still waiting for the water in the shower to heat up and gasped as Logan just walked in and went straight over to the toilet.

"Beer just shot right through me," he said in way of an explanation.

Marie crossed her arms over her breasts and fixed him with an 'oh sure' look, but he just smiled brightly at her as he raked his eyes over her body. Then when he was done and re-zipped he spent an inordinate amount of time washing his hands all the while watching her in the mirror. With one last lingering look and a heavy sigh he finally walked back into the bedroom.

When Marie finished her shower she came out wrapped in a large fluffy mocha-colored towel, retrieved a couple of items from a dresser drawer and then much to Logan's disappointment, returned to the bathroom. She poked her head around the door and told him that she had to dry her hair, so she was going to shut the door so the noise of the dryer wouldn't disturb him.

"Why don't you come out here and I'll dry your hair for you."

"You wanna play beautician?"

"Don't women love to have someone play with their hair?"

She came back into the room now dressed in a pair of plum-colored panties and a silver gray tank top and Logan drank in the sight of her.

_Damn she's fucking beautiful. What the hell was I doing wasting my time with a substitute?_

He spread his legs apart and motioned for her to sit between them. She plugged the hairdryer into the wall socket and then complied – handing it to him as she made herself comfortable. Logan turned the small appliance on and began directing the stream of hot air over her hair. Instead of using a hairbrush, he ran his fingers through the long strands as they dried. Marie made soft little sighing noises as Logan continued to finger comb the silky curtain. When her hair was sufficiently dry, he turned the dryer off and set it down beside him as she leaned back against the solid wall of his bare chest and placed her hands on his thighs. Logan massaged her head and temples with the pads of his fingers then slid his hands down her neck and onto her shoulders. Marie sighed contently and tipped her head back against his collarbone, her heart rate told him that she was totally relaxed.

His hands slipped a little lower, while her hands began a slow circular massaging motion on his thighs. His fingertips circled her nipples and she let out a low moan as they peaked under the feathery touch. While one hand continued to glide back and forth across her breasts, the other trailed down to her stomach – massaging it tenderly for a few minutes before descending lower. He played with the top edge of her panties and then casually slid his fingers under the cotton material. She dug her hands into his thighs as he heard her breath hitch and smelled her arousal kick up a notch, so he continued his downward motion, combing through the soft curls until he reached her 'pleasure button', which he rubbed gently. Marie arched her hips into his touch and he applied a little more pressure until he was rewarded with a gasping moan as she climaxed and bathed his fingers with her essence. As she turned to liquid in his arms, he removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth to taste her. As expected, she tasted delicious – like sweet cream, and he licked his fingers clean.

Marie was still bonelessly slumped against him and Logan realized she was exhausted, so he pulled back the comforter and sheet and laid her down gently. She was already sound asleep when he slipped from the bed to go into the bathroom to jerk off. After giving himself the much-needed release, he changed into a pair of boxers and slid back under the comforter. He gathered her sleeping form against him spoon-style and listening to her even breathing, was asleep himself in a matter of moments.

The next morning Marie was the first to wake up. She sat up, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and glanced at the warm body next to her. Logan was on his back still asleep, the sheet low enough to expose his muscular chest that was rising and falling at a steady pace. She just sat there staring – memorizing the pattern of the dark hair that fanned across his pecs and then trailed down his stomach to swirl in a circle around his navel.

She curiously lifted the sheet to discover that he was wearing a pair of black cotton boxers and even though they weren't particularly tight she could still clearly see the outline of his cock under the thin material. Brazenly she reached over and brushed her fingers over the prominent bulge unaware that Logan had woken up and was watching her with great interest. He saw her eyes get wider and her mouth fall open in a silent gasp as he became erect under her touch. Watching him lengthen and expand she sensed he was now awake, so she took her hand away and glanced up towards his face.

"Don't stop," he moaned.

"Can I see it?" she asked without any trace of embarrassment.

"Sure," he replied immediately.

She took a hold of the waistband of the boxers and tugged them down until he sprang free. It was like a work of art – a modern sculpture – and she studied it visually for a while before running curious, exploring fingers over it as he twitched beneath her touch. Then she did something Logan definitely wasn't expecting – she leaned down and kissed the head. He got even harder as she planted soft kisses all the way down the shaft then slid her tongue along it on the return trip. When she swirled her tongue around the head and then sucked on it experimentally Logan knew he was only moments from achieving nirvana.

"Marie," he warned in a low growl, but it was too late and he erupted in her mouth.

"Did I do that okay?" she asked earnestly.

_Christ, how can she look so fucking innocent when she just sucked me off?_

"You did it perfectly, baby. Better than I expected," he replied, and then jokingly asked, "You haven't been practicing on anyone have you?"

"Does Professor Xavier count if he never 'rose' to the occasion?" Marie teased.

"You really are pushing for that spanking we've discussed, aren't you?"

"You'll just have to save that for later. I'm supposed to be going to the mall with Kitty and Jubes this morning to pick out a gift for the Professor's birthday, so I need to get ready."

"Wouldn't you rather stay here in bed with me?" Logan asked, "I'll make it worth your while." He promised with a smirk and a lift of one eyebrow.

"As tempting as that may be, I've already made a commitment, so you're out of luck."

"Well, at least let me return the favor, for you know…."

Marie blushed a deep shade of red and started to scoot off the bed when Logan grabbed her by the waist and yanked her back toward him. He flipped her over onto her back and straddled her legs.

"Come on. I promise you'll enjoy it," he said as he reached for the band of her panties.

Marie put her hand on his wrist, but the grip was loose enough that Logan knew it was a merely a perfunctory gesture and not one meant to actually stop him. He quickly relieved her of the plum-colored scrap of material and nudged her legs apart. Before she had a chance to change her mind he ran his tongue over her and was pleased when she relaxed and let her legs fall open wider. He licked at her as she bucked against his mouth until she whimpered his name and climaxed in a little gush of wetness.

Logan crawled up her vibrating body and whispered in her ear, "Hurry home and we'll play some more."

He noted the satisfied smile on her face then he triumphantly stood up and walked into the bathroom.

_Game, set, and match – Logan._


	6. Me Tarzan You Jane

Chapter Six: Me, Tarzan. You, Jane.

When Marie returned from the mall and inquired if anyone knew Logan's present location she was directed to the gym. She found him there – alone – lifting weights, dressed in just a pair of black shorts. Sashaying over to him she swung one leg over the bench and straddled him so that she was perched on his thighs.

"Find what you needed?" Logan asked.

"I have now," she replied saucily.

Logan gave her a grin as he slid his hands up her bare legs and under the short denim skirt where he massaged circles on her inner thighs. Apart from the erect nipples visible through her white cotton shirt he could smell her arousal and ran his thumb over the front of her panties for confirmation. Marie gave a little shiver and then let out a gasp as he pushed aside the cotton fabric and touched her. Pressing her hands against his chest she leaned forward and crushed her mouth to his and slid her tongue into his mouth just as he put one long finger inside of her. He added a second finger as his thumb tickled her swollen clit, which made her moan into his mouth. A few strokes later she peaked and then collapsed against his chest. When she'd recovered she sat up and gave him a naughty smile before sliding down his body and pulling down the black shorts. Soon he was the one moaning and then peaking.

When they got back to their room Logan went to take a shower and was pleasantly surprised when Marie joined him. They soaped each other up and even washed each other's hair. Logan had to fight the urge to lift Marie up, wrap her legs around him and take her up against the tile wall. Later after he'd dried her hair they laid on the bed naked watching a hockey game. It amazed him that she had no inhibitions about being naked around him or seeing him naked either – despite the fact that he had a constant hard-on. They were lying on a pile of pillows with Marie snuggled into Logan's side – one of her legs swung over his – when she began stroking his cock. He glanced down to find that her eyes were still focused on the television as she casually caressed him. The one hand of his that had been resting on her hip now began a light stroking action of its own. Marie let out a low sigh and her hand moved down to cup his balls, which made Logan spring off the bed, leaving her perplexed.

"What's wrong? Didn't you like that?"

"I liked that a little too much, Marie," he replied, "I gotta go take a cold shower. A really cold shower."

Marie sunk back against the mountain of pillows deep in thought. What the hell was she doing? By making Logan wait, punishing him for his transgression with Mystique, she was, in effect, also penalizing herself. She'd more or less forgiven him the moment she'd invited him into her bed that first night and they'd been doing just about everything short of actual penetration lovemaking. They both knew they'd end up making love, so she had to ask herself why she was playing this stupid teasing game with him and why he was going along with it.

_Because he loves you enough to let you set the ground rules, that's why._

Marie realized that Logan was displaying the proverbial patience of a saint, but also understood that his control was hanging by a precarious thread. And the bottom line was that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She scooted off the bed, put on silk robe and went into the bathroom. Opening the glass shower door she found Logan with his head hung down letting the ice-cold water sluice over him.

Turning off the water, she said, "Get outta there and come and make love to me."

Logan stepped out of the shower, reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

"No, Marie," he said.

"No?" Marie repeated, thinking she'd somehow heard him wrong.

"No," he said again, "We'd be doing it for the wrong reasons."

"Excuse me, but how could there possibly be a wrong reason to make love?" she asked, the confusion etched clearly on her face.

"Because it's a 'quick fix' and later you're still gonna be pissed off at me. Maybe not in the immediate afterglow, but after you've had a chance to think about how we connected on a physical level before dealing with all the emotional shit."

"But I thought that's what you wanted. You seemed to be doing everything to entice me to …."

"And that was wrong," he interrupted, "I said we'd take things slow, that I'd let you set the pace, and then I tried to renege on that deal. I wanna make things right between us, Marie. I don't wanna sweep this under the rug now and then have to deal with it later. I love you and God knows I want you. There's nothing in this world I wanna do more than make love to you, but I want us to be together for the right reason, because we love each other and not just because our bodies needed it."

Marie just stood there quietly and Logan didn't need heightened senses to recognize the confusion of emotions that she was experiencing.

"Not that I'm a glutton for punishment or anything," he continued, "but be honest, you're still upset about what I did, aren't you?"

Marie gave a little affirmative nod and Logan saw the tears well up in her eyes.

"Our being together isn't gonna change the fact that it happened. I just don't want you mad at me, or yourself, because of unresolved shit. And as much as I'm really happy that you wanna be with me, the problem won't magically disappear, right?"

Marie gave another acknowledging nod as one tear escaped and slid down her cheek.

"Okay. So we deal with that first and then we make love," Logan said as he brushed the tear away with his thumb and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Thank you, Logan," Marie mumbled against his chest.

"No, thank you for being willing to give me another chance," he replied as he kissed the top of her head, "Now I'm gonna go down to the kitchen and make you dinner."

"Since when can you cook?"

"I can microwave shit as well as the next guy," he replied with a grin.

"Ooh, that sounds appetizing," she said as she pulled a face, "How about if I help you?"

"I really wanted to spoil you, but seeing as I'm hungry enough for a real dinner, I'll take you up on that offer."

"So what are you in the mood for?" Marie asked and then seeing Logan's raised eyebrow and naughty grin, added, "Besides **that**, you bad boy."

"I don't care as long as it once moo'ed, oinked or clucked," he answered.

"That's my little carnivore."

"Grrrrrrr."

"That little growl is gonna be my undoing," Marie sighed.

"Yeah, baby," Logan replied, "Now go throw on some clothes, because as much as I like the fact there's only a really short, thin piece of silk covering up all that creamy perfection – you don't wanna give Scott and every other guy over the age of twelve a woody."

Marie's mouth dropped open. "Logan!"

"Oh come on, you didn't think you're the object of only my fantasies?"

Marie's face, neck and chest colored pink and Logan reached for where the silk of her robe overlapped to create a 'V'.

"Exactly how far down does that blush go?"

That night in bed with Marie once again in just a pair of panties and a tank top and Logan in a pair of boxers, they simply snuggled with Logan rubbing small circles on Marie's back until she fell asleep. The next morning he slipped out of bed before she woke up and snuck out of the room. He returned with a breakfast tray that had two cups of coffee, some toast and a fruit platter.

"I love you," Logan said before nibbling on Marie's mouth and then offering her a strawberry to nibble on.

He was delighted when she said, "I love you, too," before taking a bite of the sweet fruit.

"So what do you want to do today?" Logan asked as he set the tray down on the floor.

"I think I'd like to spend the day at the mall going to all those girlie shops – if you're okay with that?"

"Uh…okay…if that's what you wanna do," he said, visibly paling.

Marie bit her lip, but couldn't stop the giggle from escaping.

"Wow, you really **are** trying," she said as she broke out into a big smile, "Logan, I wouldn't really do that to you, but I appreciate the effort."

Logan let out a big sigh, "Oh thank God."

"You're such a goof," she said as she swatted at him.

"Yeah, goofy for you," he said as he grabbed her and began tickling her.

Soon Marie was yelling "Uncle!" So he stopped the tickling, but still had her pinned beneath him, both of her hands above her head. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, then down her throat and onto her chest. With his teeth he pulled the tank top away from one breast and brushed his tongue over the exposed nipple. Marie let out a gasp and arched up as his mouth closed over the little pebble and he began a light sucking. He released his hold on her hands and nipple long enough to strip off her tank top and then immediately resumed lavishing both breasts with moist kisses. After several minutes of this loving attention, she pushed him over onto his back and pressed kisses all over his chest in return. As the pleasure shot through him, Logan fought the urge to flip her over, cut the little panties off and plunge into her, but he was determined to go only as far as Marie wanted to. They continued kissing and touching, but it appeared that she wasn't prepared to do anything more and he didn't push it any further.

Later that day they did go to the mall, but only so that Marie could pick up a few things at Victoria's Secret, which made Logan very happy.

That evening she gave him a little fashion show, but the ensemble that got the loudest growl from him was the leopard print bra and panty set.

"Me, Tarzan. You, Jane," Logan proclaimed as he pounded on his chest.

Marie collapsed in a fit of giggles as he did the Tarzan *yell*. She started laughing even harder when there was a pounding on the wall that separated their room from Scott and Jean's followed by Scott yelling, "Hey, Lord of the Apes, shut the fuck up!"

"They probably wonder what we're doing in here."

"We're having wild, hot monkey sex," Logan yelled in the direction of the common wall.

Marie let out a yelp and then dove onto Logan, tumbling them both down onto the bed.

"You're crazy."

"Yeah, crazy for you," Logan replied as he rolled her over, sunk his face into her neck and began blowing raspberries against the creamy skin.

"That tickles," Marie giggled as she tried to squirm away from him.

"No, this is tickling," Logan said as he started tickling her along the ribcage.

Marie shrieked with laughter as Scott pounded on the wall again.

"Time out," Marie panted, making a 'T' with her hands.

Logan stopped and they collapsed in a heap, their limbs tangled together. Marie buried her face against Logan's chest as he wrapped his arms around her, and with a sigh, inhaled the scent of her shampoo. They lay there quietly, entwined around each other, their breathing soon in sync.

"I'm sorry," he murmured after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable silence.

"For what?" she asked curiously as she tilted her head up and looked into the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes she'd ever seen.

"Mystique," Logan said, his voice almost a whisper.

"I know," Marie replied softly.


	7. Coming Back From The Edge

Chapter Seven: Coming Back From The Edge

**A few days later:**

Any residual concerns that Marie might've had about Logan's remorse regarding his lapse of judgment with Mystique were no longer an issue. In the end his simple, but sincere apology and her calm acceptance of it was all that had been necessary. They were leaving the past where it belonged … behind them. It was time to make new memories.

Logan had gotten into the habit of sneaking out of their room first thing in the morning to 'surprise' Marie by getting them breakfast. Usually she'd be awake by the time he returned, but would pretend to still be asleep – from the rhythm of her heartbeat, Logan knew she was faking, but went along with the charade.

_That better be all you ever fake with me, darlin'._

Their little routine had him setting the tray down on the bed and leaning over to kiss her – at which point she'd crack open first one eye, then the other, sit up and do her best 'Sleeping Beauty awakened by a kiss from her Prince Charming' yawn and stretch act. Logan smiled at the thought that everything she did was totally adorable. He'd never found anyone adorable before – most people just annoyed him. There were so many firsts with Marie and he was thoroughly enjoying every one of them. If this kept up, he'd have to give up his long-standing membership in the Growly Badasses Association and – dammit – just when he was almost qualified for their Hall of Fame, too.

On the tray this morning instead of the usual two mugs of coffee, there was a carafe and two cups turned upside down on their saucers. Marie sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist, and went to reach for one when Logan put his hand on her wrist to stop her.

"Marie, I have something I wanna say to you," he started to say, trying not to be distracted by the thin little tank top stretched enticingly over her breasts.

"I can't have my coffee while you're talking?" she asked curiously as the delicious aroma of the Kona blend wafted toward her teasingly.

"No," he said, tamping down the urge to stroke his thumb over one of her nipples.

Now Marie was genuinely perplexed, but she pulled her hand back and set it in her lap.

"I kinda got this whole speech planned. I rehearsed it in the shower and everything, so just hear me out and then you can have your coffee, okay?"

Marie simply nodded her understanding.

Logan cleared his throat and then swallowed hard.

"Marie, I want you to know that you're like one of those extra powerful flashlights in the black hole that use to be my life. Everything good about it now can be traced right back to you. You couldn't be more perfect for me if I'd special ordered you from someplace. I'm sorry it took being away from you to realize that, but I won't ever leave you again."

Logan then handed her the cup and saucer. If Marie was stunned by his words, she was even more surprised when she lifted the cup to reveal a circle of baguette diamonds set in platinum sitting on the saucer.

"Marie, will you marry me and be mine forever?"

She started crying, set the cup and saucer down, threw her arms around Logan and pressed kisses to his left cheek.

"I take it that means 'yes'?" he asked as he hugged her to him nice and tightly.

Marie pushed back from him and wiped at her eyes with the corner of the sheet. Suddenly she looked very pensive – her brow furrowed and she chewed on her bottom lip in a sign Logan knew meant she was contemplating something of substantial importance.

"So…we're finally gonna make love, right?" she asked tentatively.

Logan let out a clipped laugh, then replied, "Oh yeah."

Marie held out her left hand and said, "Okay, then."

Logan picked up the band, slipped it on her ring finger and then brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her fingertips.

"The lady at the jewelry store said this is an eternity band, which seemed more appropriate than a regular engagement ring – 'cause I want it to mean it's you and me for all eternity."

Marie's eyes welled up again. "Oh, Logan."

Logan leaned in to kiss her tenderly and the coffee was momentarily forgotten as they spent the next few minutes nibbling on each other.

"Can we rehearse for the honeymoon?" Marie asked shyly, a faint hint of pink coloring her ivory cheeks.

"Sure you don't wanna wait until the official night?" Logan found himself asking as he put the breakfast tray on the nightstand.

"I'm sure I wanna be with you and I don't need a piece of paper and a minister first," she replied – her eyes reflecting both sincerity and heat.

"I just want it to be perfect for you, Marie," he said as he tucked a strand of wayward platinum behind her ear.

"It'll be with you ….how could it be anything but perfect?" she replied as she returned the gesture by sweeping her fingers through his hair as he put his arms around her.

The smile that played on her mouth just begged for a kiss, so Logan leaned down and tenderly placed his lips against hers. He felt Marie relax in his arms even as her mouth pressed tighter against his. It seemed as if they both always forgot to breathe whenever they were caught up in moments like these, because they each took large gulps of air when they finally parted. Logan looked at Marie ~ her eyes dreamily glazed with a mixture of contentment and desire ~ and his heart filled with happiness that someone so pure could want someone like him. Maybe, just maybe, God hadn't abandoned him after all and would at last grant him the peace he'd been desperately seeking for so long.

Logan dusted the face of his earthbound angel with delicate kisses and let out a low throaty moan when she sighed his name. He ghosted his lips along her jawline and up to her ear, where he whispered, "Love you." And was rewarded when she responded, "Love you, too."

When his hands reached for the hem of her tank top she made no move to stop him, so he peeled it off and tossed it aside. He took a moment to simply gaze at the beautiful sight revealed to him before deciding that something was missing.

"There's something I wantcha to wear," he said as he slid off the bed.

Marie was puzzled because Logan had never wanted to play 'dress-up' before.

He walked over to the dresser, retrieved something and returned to the bed. Sitting down he opened his hand to reveal his tag. Marie smiled in acknowledgement – he wanted her to wear the tag, it was the symbol that marked her as his. She took it from him and slipped the chain over her head, letting the slice of adamantium drop to nestle between her breasts.

"That's a much better backdrop for it than my chest," he said admiringly.

"Not in my opinion," she replied as she reached out and feathered her hand through his chest hair.

Logan let out a small sigh. The slightest touch from her was far more arousing than anything any fight groupie had ever done to him. Then again, all Marie had to do was sweep her eyes over him with a look that was equal parts curiosity and longing for him to get hard. A look she was tossing his way right now as a matter of fact. He tamped down the urge to push her down and claim her hard – no matter what her heart rate and scent were telling him. There would be plenty of opportunities for hard and fast, but for now – for their first time together – it had to be gentle. He'd have to attempt something he hadn't bothered to do in the last fifteen years his memory stretched back – be genuinely tender.

He cupped her chin in his hand and stroked his thumb over her lips, then leaned down and kissed the left edge of her mouth. Marie closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh as he lightly trailed his lips over to the other corner of her mouth. Although he could happily spend an inordinate amount of time just on her luscious mouth, there were other areas of interest he yearned to taste. He gently pushed her back against the pillows then reached over to the breakfast tray, dipped his finger into the jam jar, dabbed a little of the strawberry sweetness onto one of her nipples, and leaned down to lick it off.

"Oh God," Marie moaned as he swirled his tongue over the jam-covered bud.

"So sweet," Logan murmured as he repeated the action with her other nipple.

Marie's panties dampened and Logan immediately registered the change in her scent. He swept the sheet aside and trailed a path of delicate kisses down her stomach, but instead of going straight for the obvious he nudged her legs apart and pressed kisses to the inside of her thighs while stroking the backs of her knees. As he alternated from one thigh to the other several times he let his nose brush over her moist panties in the faintest of tickling caresses, which he knew was driving her crazy. On the next pass however, he pushed the cotton fabric aside and swept his tongue over her. God, she tasted so sweet. She let out a strangled gasp and came instantly. The taste of her was inflaming him and he eased her panties aside a little more so that he'd have better access. He leaned back down – licking and sucking with an intensity that quickly brought her to orgasm again. It was as she vibrated against his mouth that he realized he wasn't being as gentle with her as he'd promised himself. He sat up and scrubbed a hand across his face.

"Sorry, baby," he panted as he willed himself to calm down.

Marie was puzzled. He'd just made her climax twice and he was apologizing? Logan noted the quizzical look on her face and decided he'd better explain.

"I said I was gonna be gentle with you, then I go and attack you like I just escaped from prison. I'm sorry, Marie," he said as he ran his hand caressingly over her temple and down the side of her face.

"I've turned you into a lust-crazed sex fiend? Sounds complimentary to me," she replied as she leaned into his gentle touch.

Logan actually blushed at that. No woman had ever been able to elicit the reactions from him that Marie was constantly garnering. He'd had sexual urges over the years, of course, but no one had ever affected him the way she did. There'd never been anyone prior to her that he'd truly wanted to make love to. He'd done really graphic things with women in the past – fucked them, rutted like an animal in heat, but he'd rarely bothered with all the details like foreplay and slow, heated kisses. It had usually been a simple case of get in, get off and get out. And names? He could barely conjure up their faces once he'd moved on, let alone their names. It had just been safer that way. He'd rarely been alone, but he'd always been lonely. With the emotional walls he'd built up over the years, Logan figured it would take dynamite to eventually knock them down, but in the end all it took was the unconditional adoration of a stowaway for them to crumble.

"I've never loved anyone before to wanna take my time and make it perfect," he confessed.

"Logan," she said, her eyes filled with tears, "it already is."

Logan leaned down and kissed her, gently at first and then with more insistence – the intensity and passion building quickly, until it consumed them both. Their past experiences were equally limited, so they were learning together and it was all kinds of wonderful.

When they parted to catch their breath, Logan trailed a path of butterfly kisses down onto Marie's throat to where her pulse throbbed wildly. Restraining the urge to bite her, he slid his tongue over her and then sucked the creamy skin just enough to cause a faint mark. It saddened him that she'd never be able to mark him in a similar fashion, that he'd never be able to show the world he was the 'property of Marie'. He'd attempted to get a tattoo while in Canada, her name inscribed over his heart, but his healing factor had interfered with that plan. As he'd filled out the release forms, they'd asked him if he was currently taking antibiotics, explaining that the medication would identify the ink as an infection and act accordingly. Knowing his healing factor served as a natural antibiotic, Logan had to abandon the idea of branding himself. Soon, however, they'd be exchanging wedding bands and that would serve as notice to the world that he was quite happily taken.

_Taken. _Logan laughed inwardly at the irony of that word. The one Jeannie had used – that Marie was _taken_ with him. He thought about what he'd replied, how he'd hoped Jeannie's ego would let her believe he'd want her and not what she considered a mere child. When in truth he'd wanted Marie from the moment he'd laid eyes on her in Laughlin City – legalities and morals be damned. He'd tried to ignore the primal instinct that screamed _'Mine'_ whenever he looked at her or thought about her when she wasn't in sight. It had become a mantra that echoed in his brain, that she was meant to be his and by the same token he was meant to be hers. He had no idea how everyone felt about their relationship, as they'd more or less sequestered themselves away from the other residents since his return – not that he actually cared when it came right down to it. Marie was number one on his priority list and everyone else on the planet was a distant second.

Logan gave himself a mental shake – this was not the time for his thoughts to be sidetracked. He looked down at the angelic young woman who was gazing up at him with a mixture of adoration and pure lust and his heart skipped a beat. Just then she brought his hand to her mouth, placed a kiss in his palm and raising sparkling eyes to his, softly said, "Make love to me."

Standing up he quickly divested himself of the sweat pants he'd put on to go get their breakfast and sat back down again. Marie reached for the band of her panties, when Logan put his hands on her wrists to stop her.

"I wanna take them off you," he said huskily.

Marie let out a whimper and pulled her hands back as his fingers grasped the edge and he began sliding the damp fabric down. After they'd been summarily tossed aside, he began a teasing massage of her legs – starting at her ankles and working his way up, agonizingly slow. Caressing the inside of her thighs he gave her a seductive grin as he eased her legs apart. Marie was breathing hard as the moisture pooled between her legs and she trembled in anticipation.

Logan brushed his fingers over the damp heat at the juncture of her legs and Marie almost came apart at just that gesture.

"Logan," she gasped, "please."

He moved to trail a path of kisses up her body – determined to indulge in a suitable amount of foreplay, but Marie wrapped her hands around his biceps and gave a tug to pull him up towards her.

"No more waiting," she implored, her eyes pleading as much as her voice.

He moved to position himself in the cradle of her thighs knowing she was beyond ready for him. She reached down between them and wrapped her small hand around his thick shaft to guide him into her.

"I love you," he declared as he entered her.

"I love you, too," she replied as she raised her hips to meet his initial thrust.

If it was supposed to hurt the first time, Marie was too lost in the moment to notice – all she felt was a sense of peace at finally having Logan inside her. Their mouths locked together in a searing kiss as their hands glided over heated skin – seeking touch, such delicious touch. Neither one of them could verbalize a coherent thought – soft groans and whimpers were the only audible sounds as they moved together as one. If it wasn't for the sharp contrast of his darker, hairer body compared to her pale, smooth one it would've been difficult to tell where Logan ended and Marie began.

After establishing a rhythm and getting comfortable with each other they moved around into different positions – Logan had rolled them over so that Marie was now on top riding him with abandon. Then he sat up so that she was still impaled on him, but sitting in his lap with her legs wrapped around his back. He enveloped her in his arms, sliding his hands over the soft skin of her back, breathing in the scent of her pureness, and he wondered how he'd ever considered Mystique was an acceptable substitute. He'd never make that mistake again. Marie had not merely touched his body, she'd touched his soul and from now on his heart, soul, and most importantly, his body belonged only to her.

He leaned down and pressed tender kisses along one shoulder, up onto her neck and chin then claimed her mouth for another slow, wet kiss. Then he lowered her down so that he was once again on top and rocked into her with deep strokes. It was her turn to lick at his neck and breathe in his scent; to her he smelled like the forest after a cleansing rain. He felt her clench around him as the orgasm washed over her and he finally released his tightly held grip on his own climax and exploded into her.

"Oh my God that was amazing," Marie moaned as she tried to catch her breath, "Is it always like that?"

"It's never been like that for me – ever," Logan replied, then added, "Guess that's the difference when you're in love."

Marie gave him the best smile he'd ever seen on anyone and after returning the favor with an equally dazzling smile; he buried his face in her neck and sighed contentedly. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "Mine."

THE END


End file.
